


Episode IX: One Jump After Episode VIII

by Piano_Padawan



Category: Aladdin (1992), Aladdin (2019), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Also Inspired by Aladdin (2019), Comedy, Gingerpilot, Humor, Inspired by Aladdin (1992), Multi, Prequel Trilogy References, Pryde is one of the suitors, Some Dark Humor, Yes Armie has suitors, unrequitted Prux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piano_Padawan/pseuds/Piano_Padawan
Summary: Meet Poe Dameron, Certified Rebel Scum Captain of the Very Broke Resistance with an eye for Armitage Hux, youngest general in the Very Rich First Order and Certified Gold-Digger with an eye for the title of Grand Marshal. Thanks to Kylo Ren’s nonsensical law-editing, the title is now out of reach unless Hux marries another First Order general before his 35th birthday. With another suitor on the table and a literal war between them, it doesn’t seem like Poe stands a chance…But when a somewhat traitorous mission involving the Jedi texts introduces him to the Phenomenal Cosmic Power of the High Ground in the form of a blue Force ghost, things start to look different. Now, Poe has a shot at becoming Hux’s wealthiest and most powerful suitor. And if it takes 75 golden AT-ATs, a few lies and a few more ghosts than expected to make it work, so be it.(Yes… it’s an Aladdin AU. Mainly GingerPilot with some Reylo. Comedic fic and therefore not meant to be taken too seriously. Song parodies in here because I love the songs from that movie too much not to parody them.)





	1. The Law is Wrong!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Aladdin, Star Wars or any of the characters, themes, songs, song lyrics etc. mentioned in this story. All copyrighted work here is intended for transformative purposes and belongs to their respective owners.
> 
> A/N: So, this was a random plot-bunny that I had to post after watching the AWESOME Aladdin remake. This fic is almost complete, so I expect to post chapters periodically and hopefully finish this one up pretty fast. I am not, by any means, a professional lyricist, but the song parodies are mainly meant for comedic effect anyway.

** Opening Text Crawl **

_Oh, somewhere in a galaxy far far away_

_Where the caravan Banthas roam,_

_Where Death Stars are immense, and the battle’s intense._

_It’s perilous, but hey, it’s home!_

_When there’s sand in the east and there’s sand in the west_

_It’s everywhere! I guess that’s fine._

_With two suns in the sky, grab an X-Wing and fly_

_And get ready for Episode Nine._

_It’s Episode Nine, after Episode Eight_

_Rebel support’s naught,_

_But the Order’s got…_

_A lot on their plate._

_It’s Episode Nine, end of the trilogy_

_Kylo Ren’s gone mad!_

_The general’s sad,_

_As sad as can be…_

* * *

 

_“I want the Sacred Jedi Texts!”_

General Hux took a deep breath and tried to resist the urge to cover his ears. The fact that he so accustomed to the recently crowned Supreme Leader Kylo Ren’s shouting in his face was rather depressing. Even before his rise to power, Ren always seemed to be demanding something. The map to Luke Skywalker, the scavenger girl’s phone number, his grandfather’s lightsaber, or the password book where he kept his login information for Sithflix…

And now “the Sacred Jedi Texts”.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux still struggled not to gag on the phrase. “We have already sent hundreds of our men in search of the Sacred Jedi Texts. None have returned. I think it’s time we started looking for more realistic gifts for your girlfriend…”

“It’s not just a gift!” the Supreme Leader snapped. “How many times must I explain it to you? The Jedi Texts are not intended as a ‘gift’ for Rey. Do you know how many Force users have read the Jedi Texts, Hux?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hux said. “How many Jedi were there again?”

“WRONG!” roared Kylo Ren. “The answer is zero! No one has ever read the Sacred Jedi Texts!”

“Well, then I hardly think that your girlfriend would mind if you haven’t read them…”

In response, Kylo let out a long, agonized bellow that sounded vaguely like a “No!”

“This is why people say you know nothing of romance,” Kylo said, speaking slowly as if he were explaining an elementary concept to a particularly dimwitted child. “The fact that no other Force user has ever bothered to read the Jedi Texts means that if I read them, I will be the most well-read Force user in the history of both the dark and the light side. Which means…”

He paused for Hux to finish his sentence. Instead, the general only rolled his eyes.

“That doesn’t speak very well for the Jedi if reading three or four books makes you the most well-read Force user in history,” he muttered.

“That is not the point!” Kylo shouted. “The point is that if I am the most well-read Force user, Rey will respect me, and if she respects me, we will rule the galaxy together as husband and wife! You really don’t know the first thing about how marriage works!”

Hux was quite sure that the Supreme Leader’s love life was not representative of the general population. That being said, he didn’t actually know enough on the subject to argue otherwise.

“There is something else,” Kylo said. “Snoke used to say that there was a prophecy related to the Jedi Texts. Something about them only being accessible by someone outside the First Order…”

“Of course, _now_ you tell me,” Hux grumbled. “154 Stormtroopers and 210 radar technicians later, you tell me.”

“The prophecy said it needs to be someone whose value lies within,” Kylo went on. “Not literally within, as in internal organs and stuff. I mean, like… metaphorically within. Like, they don’t have a lot of money, but they’re rich in virtues. Or, they’re really ugly, but they’re beautiful inside. Or, they’re like a Stormtrooper who can’t aim their blaster on the outside but on the inside, they’re a good shot. Or…”

“I get the kriffing metaphor! I’m not that dense!” Hux was starting to lose his patience. “I’ve heard it all before, the whole ‘diamond in the rough’ business.”

“Yeah!” Kylo said. “That was the word he used!”

“Diamond in the rough,” Hux muttered. “Rich on the inside only… that sounds like a disappointment if I ever heard one… Well, if you insist, Supreme Leader, I will tell you if I see any diamonds in the rough running about. But until we find one, I wanted to discuss something else with you, today.”

Kylo eyed him suspiciously.

“You mean, you actually wanted to talk to me about something?” he asked incredulously.

“I didn’t _want_ to,” Hux confessed. “You know I never _want_ to be Force choked every other sentence if I can help it, but I digress. I assume you know what I need to ask you.”

Kylo stared at him blankly for a good, long while. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as if he had just had a revelation.

“Oh, you mean that little petticoat Phasma said would look nice on you at the Coruscant Shopping District!” he exclaimed. “Well, it’s a little too bright=colored for my tastes, and it might clash with your hair, but I think you’re ugly regardless, so buy whatever clothes you want.”

“That is not at all what I wanted to ask about!” said Hux. “I was referring to the gap in our hierarchy. The promotion!”

“I thought I already promoted you to Alpha Rabid Cur, last week,” Kylo said. “Though, I guess you are the only one to ever have the title of ‘Rabid Cur’, so it’s not really a promotion, but in theory, it would give you more authority over other rabid curs…”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux said, trying to calm the nerve pulsing in his head. “The First Order needs a Grand Marshal. The position is empty. I am the sole qualified candidate. I…”

“Actually, you aren’t qualified,” Kylo said.

Hux’s eye was now twitching with anger. The general had gone to an Incompetent Boss Frustration Management Class, not long after Kylo Ren had claimed the throne. The instructor had sent him home with aromatic candles, a stress ball shaped like a Resistance cruiser, and a list of strategies which all boiled down to counting to ten. Well, Hux had soon discovered that the candles did nothing but set off the fire alarm across the entire Star Destroyer and, saying that he was already quite competent at counting to ten, none of the relaxation strategies worked. As for the stress ball, it had lasted approximately twenty seconds in the presence of Kylo Ren before becoming a burnt crisp. In short, the general had yet to find a successful way to calm down, and when dealing with Ren, he doubted there was one to be found.

“I can assure you that I am qualified,” he seethed. “I have had all seventy-one points in the criteria memorized since I was six years old, and I meet every single one of them!”

“Did you memorize the latest edition of the law?” Kylo Ren said. “I edited it last week.”

“I… wasn’t notified,” said Hux. The general pulled out his data pad and began to search through the updated First Order’s legal code. “But I doubt there is anything you could put in there that would disqualify me for…”

A single line in the code drained every drop of color from the general’s face. He gave Ren one final mortified look before turning on his heels and storming out of the throne room. By the time the elevator reached the requested floor, his entire body had gone numb with shock. The door opened on a pair of very concerned officers.

“Get me a lawyer,” Hux ordered.

* * *

 

An hour later, Hux found himself huddled in his chamber, clutching the phone to his head.

“This is kriffing ridiculous,” he said. “Kriffing bantha shit law…”

“My apologies, general,” his lawyer on the other end of the line said. “The new rules are explicit. Unless you marry another First Order general before you turn 35, you are not qualified to be Grand Marshal.”

“And since when did my martial status have anything to do with my ability to lead our troops?” Hux shouted into the phone.

“What can I say?” the lawyer sighed. “The Supreme Leader does whatever he wants and that’s that.”

“That doesn’t sound very formal,” said Hux.

“I’m reading from the First Order’s legal code verbatim,” the lawyer replied. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t look like you have much of a case to argue.”

The general took a moment to scream muffled curses into a pillow before resuming the conversation.

“But, it’s an impossible requirement!” he said.

“It isn’t technically impossible,” the lawyer said. “There are several other single men of your rank in the First Order who would be happy to take your hand in marriage.”

Hux thought back to the selection of First Order generals he had seen during his speech on Starkiller Base. He struggled not to faint from the horror of marrying one of them.

“Is there any means by which I could contest the law?” he asked. “Anything! I don’t care what it costs!”

The lawyer gave no response.

“Hello?” the general said, waiting impatiently for an answer.

For a while there was nothing but shuffling on the other end of the line. When someone finally did answer, it was in a thick, very fake Imperial accent:

“Sorry, I was just reconditioning my TIE fighter,” said the “lawyer”. “Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah. You could, technically, marry one of the other generals in the First Order, but let’s be real. You wouldn’t want to marry any of them even if it does get you the title of Grand Marshal. They’re all old and ugly and I know you. You like pilots, and none of them know the first thing about flying an X-Wing… or a TIE. Probably would be a TIE because that’s what you use in…”

“Who the hell is this?!” Hux exclaimed.

“Your lawyer,” said the imposter, thickening their Imperial accent as if doing so dispelled all hints of doubt. “Which is why you should listen to me, sweetheart. You know, I’m well-versed in other things besides legal stuff.”

“You certainly aren’t well-versed in how to properly address a general,” Hux said. “What have you done with my lawyer?!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down! If you calm down, I think we can make this work. Your 35th birthday is in two weeks, so it’s kind of too late to find another guy worthy of you in that time span. Maybe we can pull some strings so that you can become Grand Marshal and while still being single. Like… no one would want you to miss out on the cool title and huge pay raise and all that, but _you_ wouldn’t want to miss out on all the much more eligible bachelors in both the First Order and the Resistance… but mainly the First Order because that’s obviously more applicable…”

At this point, Hux had had just about enough getting his ear talked off by someone who was evidently Rebel Scum. He had a suspicion who it was, but there was only one way to find out.

“What’s my full name?” he demanded.

“Huh? That seems like kind of a random thing to ask. I’m your lawyer. How could I not know…”

“What’s my full name? Answer me!”

There was a long break on the other end of the line. Finally, the imposter answered:

“Armitage.”

“I asked for my _full_ name,” Hux said.

“Armitage Hu…” the imposter mumbled the last consonant, but not before a very faint “gs” slipped through.

“POE DAMERON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY SHIP?!”

Dameron laughed uneasily.

“Bye, Hugs,” he said.

The last thing Hux heard before the pilot hung up was a Stormtrooper shouting, “Stop! Thief!” The ship shook from what the general presumed was an explosion. Hux winced and stomped out into the hall.

“Don’t just stand there!” he yelled at an idle group of Stormtroopers. “Get them! And get them before they start singing that blasted Running Away Song! I _loathe_ when they do that!”


	2. Wish Me Another Happy Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the people who left kudos or commented on the last chapter.
> 
> Here's the first song parody for "One Jump".

“What were you doing?” Rey demanded as Poe ran out from the row of phone booths.

“I just had to stun Hux’s lawyer,” Poe said. “The guy was, uh… talking shit about the Resistance. Telling lies about Kylo Ren’s eight pack. I couldn’t let him get away with that!”

Rey’s face darkened.

“Kylo Ren does have an eight pack!” she said. “I’ve seen it!”

The entire squad turned to stare at her.

“In propaganda posters, I mean,” she added hastily.

“Where’s BB-8?” Poe asked, looking around in a panic.

Another explosion rocked the floor of the destroyer. To Poe’s relief, the droid rolled down from a nearby corridor, beeping something in binary about blowing up a power cell.

“Alright,” Poe said. “What’s the escape plan?”

“Well, the First Order is incapable of following more than one object at once,” said Finn. “They chase things best when their target is moving in a straight line and there’s no distractions. So, I say we split up and meet back at the escape pods. Rey and I go one way, Rose and Connix go another way, and then you go with BB-8. As for distractions, I say, we use The Running Away Song.”

“Got it.” Poe turned to the droid. “BB-8, prepare The Running Away Song.”

BB-8 whirred in agreement and began to load the background music.

“We’re going to have to make a shorter name for that,” Rey muttered. “Something catchier. Like something derived from the lyrics…”

“No time to name the song now,” Finn said. “We need to get out of here.”

“Besides, changing the title would require a unanimous vote by the entire Resistance,” Poe pointed out.

They could hear the Stormtroopers close around the corner now. Fortunately, BB-8 had finished loading the soundtrack.

“BB-8, punch it!” Poe said.

* * *

 

Hux stormed onto the command bridge and immediately headed to the row of security cameras.

“General!” Thanisson shouted in alarm. “The Rebels have split up into three groups!”

“For the last time,” Hux said. “We have enough troopers. Tell the troopers to split up into three groups and follow them!”

Thanisson checked his security monitor and shook his head.

“It’s too late for that, General,” he said. “They’ve already lost everyone except Dameron.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Hux closed his eyes and squeezed his fists around an imaginary stress ball. “Tell them to follow Dameron then! I’ll just have to deal with Ren later when he finds out we lost the scavenger girl again and…”

The general was interrupted by a lively instrumental introduction blasting over the fleetwide intercom system. How the Resistance had managed to hack the ship’s audio was a mystery. It annoyed Hux to no end.

“Oh, is that the Running Away Song?” one of the technicians asked.

“I believe so,” Thanissson said, grinning.

Hux shot them both a glare.

“You say that as if you enjoy it,” he said accusingly.

“Uh… I don’t know if we, enjoy it… um… in the sense that you mean,” Thanisson hesitated. “Although, it is rather catchy and pleasant to the ears, even if it does distract our troops.”

“Yeah!” the entire technician pit said in agreement.

Hux looked on in despair. This day just kept getting worse, and if previous experience was any indication, he wasn’t even anywhere near the lowest point. All he could do now was watch the Stormtroopers’ wild goose chase after Dameron while the Running Away Song played at full volume on the speakers:

_“Gotta keep_

_One jump ahead of the blasters_

_One step ahead of the game,_

_Good thing the troopers just cannot aim_

_(They miss everything.)_

_One jump out of the compactor_

_Call Hugs to make a joke_

_I think he’d date me if I wasn’t broke…”_

 

“ _Liar!_ ” Hux said. To his horror, his outrage only enhanced the music.

“ _Missed ‘em_ ,” one of the Stormtroopers sighed.

“ _Rebels!_ ” Hux groaned.

“ _Stop him!_ ” yelled another Stormtrooper.

_“Why are you all such thugs?”_ Poe whined. _“Call the troops off, come on, please Hugs…”_

_“Kriffing Rebel Scum, just can’t face the facts,”_ Hux lamented.

_“Just blew up a ship or two,”_

_“YOU –”_

 

_“Resistance membership’s at the bottom,”_ the technicians gossiped. _“Yet they still dealt our fleet such a blow…”_

_“I’d blame Hux for why we haven’t caught ‘em,”_ Captain Peavey muttered.

_“Gotta save the fleet, gotta defeat Ren,”_ sang Poe. _“Sorry, that’s how it is. Now I've gotta go…”_

 

_“One jump past the main reactor._

_One hit and your fleet’s toast._

_Can’t say I’m sorry for the ships I roast._

_One jump ahead of the troopers._

_One’s dead, thanks to BB-8._

_I think I’ll let these grenades detonate…”_

_“Break in!”_ shouted a Stormtrooper.

_“Not fair!”_ another complained when he missed stunning Dameron for the sixth time.

_“Catch him!”_ Hux cried.

_“My hair!”_ the Supreme Leader shouted from across the ship. Hux wasn’t sure whether Ren was simply unaware of the situation or whether he somehow believed his hair was relevant to the problem at hand. Regardless, the rhyming was really uncanny.

_“You might think I’m insane,”_ Poe said, his voice strangely flirtatious.

_“Really, I just think you’re a pain,”_ another rhyme slipped out before Hux could catch it.

_“Hope lights the fire, fire burns you down,”_ sang Poe. _“Hope is like the sun, you know?”_

_“No!”_ Hux moaned, cringing at the platitude.

 

_"One jump ahead of the cannons,_

_(“Convict!”)_

_One hop just over the blast_

_(“Hell no!”)_

_One dodge away from the saber_

_(“That prick!”)_

_Glad Rose got me a taser._

_(“Don’t go,”_ said Hux before he could stop himself.)

_Here goes, straight into my X-Wing,_

_Another happy landing,_

_All I got to do is jump!"_

 

Having reached the end of his song, Poe Dameron vaulted the railing overlooking the hangar into his cockpit, only to find that the X-Wing controls had been disabled.

“What the hell?” he said, desperately fiddling with the switches. The cause of the problem beeped maniacally above him. In the place where BB-8 usually sat was another BB unit with black plates and a flat head. BB-8 circled the X-Wing squealing binary curses at the First Order droid.

“Why is it that you are always the one to foil a perfectly good Resistance plan?” Poe groaned, glaring at BB-9E.

In response, the droid let out a series of beeps that sounded oddly like evil laughter.

* * *

 

Hux was on his way to the interrogation chambers when he was interrupted by a Stormtrooper holding a delicately wrapped gift box.

“Excuse me, General,” said the trooper. “These are for you.”

Unaccustomed to receiving gifts, Hux accepted the box warily. He shook it and heard something small jingling inside. Well, at least it wasn’t a porg. Ever since Phasma had pranked him with that porg in a box (which had nearly given him a heart attack), he was suspicious of any sort of present.

“Who sent them?” the general asked.

“Allegiant General Pryde,” replied the trooper. “He saw your announcement explaining your search for another general to marry and flew his part of the fleet to this part of the galaxy straight away.”

“Is he on this ship now?” Hux asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Yes, sir,” said the trooper. “He’s waiting on the Command Bridge for you to return.”

Hux wondered whether it would be too severe of an etiquette violation to open the gift if he had no intention of even meeting with Pryde. Deciding that any existent etiquette code in the First Order had been smashed to pieces by Ren’s rise to power, he tore open the wrapping, discarding the unread card in a nearby waste bin.

“Tell him that his troubles have been wasted,” Hux said, struggling with a stubborn piece of wrapping paper. “Tell him I’m not…”

He ripped back the last piece of paper and found himself at a lost for words. Inside the box was a brand new, crystalline carbonite-rimmed monomolecular blade. He’d seen advertisements for this model in luxury catalogues. If he remembered the price correctly, the blade probably cost as much as Ren’s new TIE Silencer.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Hux muttered.

After a while of rifling through the waste bin, he was able to recover the card. The message inside was concise:

_Dear General Armitage Hux,_

_Yes, there is more where this came from._

_\- Allegiant General V. Pryde_

So, the man wasn’t even trying to hide his efforts to purchase the younger general’s affections. It wasn’t a very romantic courtship model. No. This was crass and shameless. Hux already knew that the marriage was doomed to fall miserably short of even his low emotional expectations…

It might not have been ideal, but it could be much worse. He hadn’t explicitly ruled out the prospect of his affections being for sale. So long as Pryde realized that this wasn’t going to be cheap, and so long as the money kept flowing once they were married, it didn’t seem like _too_ bad of a deal.

“Tell him I’ll be right there,” Hux said.

“Should I take this as an acceptance of the marriage proposal, general?” the trooper asked earnestly.

“Not yet, no,” the general said. Though the promised luxury was tempting indeed, the prospect of marriage still left a foul taste in his mouth. It was better to take some time to think things through, in case, for one inconceivable reason or another, he decided that marrying for money was not such a wise idea.

Besides, he needed time to compare General Pryde’s net worth against that of the other eligible generals.


	3. Rebel Scum in the Rough

 “Well, this is fun,” Poe said as the Stormtrooper guard finished strapping him into the interrogation chair.

“Shut up, Rebel Scum,” the trooper shouted. Before they left the interrogation room, however, they turned to him again and said, a little sheepishly, “For the record. I enjoyed your song and dance sequence even if it didn’t help you get away.”

“Aw, thanks man,” said Poe.

His smile faded when Kylo Ren stormed into the room, followed by BB-9E.

_Rebel Scum’s in trouble_ , BB-9E muttered to himself in binary. _Rebel Scum’s in trouble. Scum, scum, scum…_

“I see we’ve captured the best pilot in the Resistance again,” said Kylo. “I see you’re up to your old Rebel Scum business: bombing our dreadnoughts, mimicking my mom (in a way that is honestly really disturbing to me) by putting messages of great importance in droids and sending them out to desert planets, and singing your infuriatingly catchy songs while you rob the First Order of every single stylus, pen, pencil, crayon and highlighter the Command Bridge. Do you have any idea how hard it is to write anything down here, you thief? I can’t find a pen anywhere nowadays because of you Rebel Scum. It’s so hard for a man to do his calligraphy with no pens…”

“Hey, let’s be fair,” Poe said. “First of, I haven’t done the middle thing with the droid since last year.  Second, your mom is an awesome role model and you can’t blame us young Resistance fighters for wanting to be like her, dress like her, etc. from time to time. Third, the Resistance needs the pens more than you. Fourth, I know that everyone in the First Order loves my songs and secretly downloads them off of asteroidTunes.”

On cue, Kylo Ren’s ring tone went off with an alternative rock version of “The Running Away Song”. The knight snatched up his phone and turned it to silent.

“Oh, but you’re not just interested in making money off off asteroidTunes, are you Captain?” said Kylo. “You’re trying to serenade the general, aren’t you?”

“You… you don’t have any proof of that,” Poe said.

“I have more than enough proof.”

“What are you going to do?” Poe gritted his teeth. “Dig through my mind again for the Rebel Base?”

“Oh, hell no,” Kylo looked mortified at the thought. “Kriff no. Not after what I saw in your mind the last time… we already have proof. BB-9E convinced BB-8 to show us your browsing history. Searching ‘short-sleeved Armitage Hux’ every single night on our propaganda poster database isn’t normal browsing behavior.”

“Come on. I think everyone does that.”

“Um… I don’t know what you see when you look at Hux, but I can tell you that most of us see this skinny, pasty sad man.”

“Exactly!” Poe exclaimed. Why was Hux’s obvious attractiveness so difficult for Ren to understand?

Kylo gave Poe another long, horrified look before moving on with the interrogation.

“The point is, for some reason, you want to woo Hux,” he said. “Besides the fact that I think that’s a stupid thing… because Hux is stupid and you’re stupid and love is stupid… it’s also out of your reach now as things stand.”

For the first time throughout the interrogation, Poe looked truly scared.

“What are you talking about?” he growled.

“In case you didn’t hear the sound of all the destroyers moving in…” Kylo’s voice trailed off as he stopped to consider this statement. “Actually, I don’t think you’d hear them. Sound doesn’t travel in space, right? But… we all hear the other explosions and the _pew pew pew_ stuff so… I guess I don’t know physics.” He cleared his throat, making a very alarming sound under his mask in the process. “But that isn’t the point. Allegiant General Pryde arrived on the ship today, courting Hux. He’s the richest general in the First Order, and I heard he gave Hux a whole bunch of expensive gifts.”

“You… you underestimate Hux!” Poe snarled. “He’d never choose another guy just for material gain!”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, ten stories above the interrogation wing, Hux was trying very desperately to focus on material gain. General Pryde was, well as Hux had remembered the other First Order generals – old, disapproving and disliked by Millicent, if her hissing and bristled hair was any indication. Still, the man’s bank account was enough to make Hux try (and fail) to smile during the meeting.

He glanced helplessly at Phasma and Mitaka. The former simply shrugged and grabbed more protein-powder popcorn for the show. The latter mouthed something that was either, _“Introduce yourself”_ or _“Invoice of hell”_ , depending on how accurate Hux’s lipreading was. Neither option seemed very practical to him. Surely, Pryde knew who he was courting already, in which case, Hux didn’t see why he’d want to waste time with a long introduction when they could be discussing the financial logistics instead.

“Good evening, General,” Hux sighed. He hadn’t realized until now how much he resented the idea of another person on his ship going by the same title. “I am General Armitage Hux, soon to be Grand Marshal, so the ‘General’ part is mostly temporary.”

“Strictly speaking, he’s not Grand Marshal unless you marry him,” one of the technicians pointed out. Hux shot him a glare that could melt ice.

“Armitage Hux,” General Pryde said. “You’re even prettier in-person than in the propaganda posters.”

Hux felt his eye twitch. Millicent weaved around his legs, hissing at the older general.

“It’s actually _General_ Armitage Hux,” Hux growled. “Or Grand Marshal Hux if you wish to use the title in advance. And I don’t mean to look ‘pretty’ in the propaganda posters. I… I happen to look very intimidating.”

“Really?” another technician blurted out. He turned to his colleague and said, “I thought he looked quite pretty.”

“Me too,” the other technician confessed. “I thought that was what he was going for? I don’t know how he does it, but even in the really bloody posters, he’s still pretty.”

“Yeah, in an angry destructive way,” the first technician said. “Like in the one where he’s supposed to be giving the order to destroy that Resistance Base that we don’t actually know the location of.”

“He was really pretty in that one,” said the second.

“If I hear the word ‘pretty’ one more time on this Bridge, I will send the offender straight to the throne room where they will be forced to edit Kylo Ren’s poetry about moral conflict till the end of their miserable days!” Hux snarled.

The threat silenced the rest of the Bridge for about ten seconds before one of the Stormtroopers raised his hand.

“What?” Hux snapped.

“Does the ban on the word that I shall not say extend to its usage as a synonym for ‘very’ or ‘rather’?” asked the trooper.

“So long as it isn’t in reference to me, it is legal,” Hux groaned.

The trooper turned to the rest of his baffled division and began to attempt to explain the new vocabulary rule.

“Why do you have to make the rules so complicated?” Captain Peavey asked. “Look, now the Stormtroopers are confused and sad.”

“Confound it, Captain!” Hux shouted.

The Stormtroopers had begun to draw out a very complicated diagram to explain the rule in question. Hux wasn’t quite sure where they had gotten the portable white board from. He could have sworn Ren had destroyed the last white board on the Finalizer years ago. Perhaps it was another gift from Pryde’s fleet.

“Would you prefer I don’t compliment your physical appearance then, Armitage?” General Pryde cut in.

“No!” Hux said. “Just… use other words. Talk about my hair or something along those lines. Or better yet – they always say, actions speak louder than words, especially expensive actions.”

“Are you asking that I bribe you with more gifts instead of attempting to relate to you on a personal level, Armitage?” Pryde questioned.

Hux looked over at Mitaka again, who was making incomprehensible gestures and shaking his head.

“Why, yes,” Hux said. He caught sight of Mitaka smacking a hand against his forehead. “Yes, I am.”

“Very well then,” said Pryde.

* * *

 

“Alright,” Poe said. “Maybe Hugs is accepting this guy’s presents for now, just to be polite, but that doesn’t mean the marriage is going to go through. Besides, Hugs likes sexy pilots. That’s his type. He more or less admitted it all those times he called me ‘insane’.”

“For the record, I’m not happy about this thing with Pryde either,” Kylo complained. “I still can’t believe Hux could manage to get around that change in the Grand Marshal law”. Seeing Poe’s look of confusion, he added, “It’s a long story.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. You can’t bribe someone like Hux into marrying you.”

“Earlier today, Pryde gave Hux a dagger that costs as much as half the Resistance fleet and a miniature golden AT-AT that probably costs as much as the other half. Are you really sure he won’t be bribed?”

Poe opened his mouth to argue otherwise, but his doubts caught up to him first.

_Gold-digger, gold-digger, gold-digger Hux_ , BB-9E beeped triumphantly

“It’s not fair,” he said.

“Yeah, life’s not fair,” Kylo lamented. “Take me, for instance. I go through all this trouble to get my hair perfect and bouncy under the helmet for Rey’s interrogation, and she’s into it. Then, I kill my father, and suddenly all the appreciation she had for my hair just goes away.”

“So, why did you come here to tell me this?” Poe sulked. “Just to make me feel bad?”

“Yes,” Kylo admitted. “Because I don’t like being the only guy with a failing love life on the ship.”

Looking at the First Order, Poe suspected Kylo wasn’t the only man without a blossoming love life, but he decided not to bring it up. Maybe beneath all the murder and torture, the First Order was secretly a very romantic place.

“Maybe we could help each other out, then?” Poe suggested. “I could put in a good word for you with Rey, and in exchange you could…”

“If you want me to spare the Resistance, the answer is ‘no’,” snapped Kylo. “I am here trying to finish what Vader started, and it’s hard enough already with you guys bombing our ships and holding our hands and stealing our lightsabers.”

“I was going to suggest that you could sway Hugs away from marrying Pryde,” said Poe.

In retrospect, making a deal to spare the whole Resistance would probably have been more honorable, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Besides, he was sure the Resistance understood that you had to make sacrifices at times.

“A good word won’t be enough,” Kylo said. “We need another plan. We need something special.” He let out a deep sigh. “Like the Sacred Jedi Texts.”

“Pfft. What about the Sacred Jedi Texts? They’re all old and dusty and…”

“You’ve seen them?!” The urgency in Kylo’s voice stunned Poe.

“Uh… yeah,” he said, hoping he wasn’t revealing too much. “I just saw them the other day in that table on the Millennium Falcon. No one’s ever read one to the end though.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes (or rather, Poe assumed he narrowed his eyes or made some other scrutinizing look. It was impossible to see anything with the helmet). Then, to Poe’s surprise, he released the restraints on the interrogation chair. He stared at his free hands, too stunned to move at first. Was this how Rey had gotten out too?

“We have a deal then,” Kylo said. “You get me the Jedi Texts and I’ll stall the marriage between Hux and Pryde.”

Poe didn’t move. Admiral Ackbar’s wise words drifted back to him now. _This had to be a trap._

“What are you waiting for?” yelled Kylo. “Get out of here and bring me the Jedi texts! Your droid’s somewhere around the ship. Probably chased a Stormtrooper up a tree.”

“You have trees in this Star Destroyer?” Poe asked. “I thought they wouldn’t grow well in…”

The look Kylo gave him told him it was time to stop talking. Taking the hint, Poe scampered out of the interrogation wing before the knight could change his mind.

“And no more escaping songs while you get out!” Kylo said. “It’s not good to listen to one song too many times. It ruins it!”

* * *

 

Poe made it out of the First Order fleet with little difficulty. He later discovered that the security guards had been too busy holding a seminar about a new vocabulary rule to see his X-Wing fly out of the hangar. Once he was alone with BB-8, he lamented in musical form:

_“Golden AT-ATs?_

_Does he like that?_

_Aren’t they just too gaudy?_

_Is he such a shameless…_

_Gold-digger?_

_Kriff, I wish…_

_My paycheck was bigger.”_

He let out a deep sigh and allowed the X-Wing to continue along its course.

“Someday, BB-8, things are gonna change,” Poe said. “We’ll win this war, live in a giant cruiser like the Finalizer but less dismal and Kylo Ren-ish, and never have any problems at all.”

* * *

“I’ve never been so insulted!’

General Pryde marched out of the Command Bridge, followed by his entourage of troopers and a very anxious Lieutenant Mitaka.

“General!” Mitaka called. “Please wait! Let’s just try a few more meetings and see whether he warms up to you!”

“I refuse to do this anymore!” Pryde snarled. “Good luck marrying him off!”

“Hux is a little rough on the edges,” Mitaka admitted. “But please, just give him another chance… maybe two or three more chances. You said so yourself, he’s the most beautiful general we’ve had in years. His hair, his sharp cheekbones, his…”

“No beauty can compensate for the infinite unpleasantness that lies within,” Pryde said. “Do you know he bit me when I tried to hold his hand? Drew blood too… And don’t even get me started on that feline terror of his!”

“I’ll talk to him about avoiding using his teeth,” Mitaka promised. “Please stay! His 35th birthday is in twelve days’ time and the law says he has to marry a general by then in order to become Grand Marshal.”

Pryde raised an eyebrow and looked to his troops. He couldn’t tell whether they were clueless or whether they all just looked blank with the helmets on.

“That doesn’t sound like a very sensible law,” he said.

“I know. You see, it was made by the Supreme Leader,” the lieutenant explained. “But the point is, Hux only has so much time to finalize a marriage. He’s frightened off every suitor thus far except for you! You are the only general he has left to marry! Trust me, he’ll do anything to win the title of Grand Marshal. Just give him another few days. He’ll warm up to the idea, and when he does, he usually stops biting.”

Pryde considered this news. Having weighed the pros and cons, he ordered his troops to cancel their departure.

“I will give stay till his 35th birthday,” Pryde said. “But if he or the cat bites me again, the deal is off! Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Mitaka. “I will speak to Hux about the biting. I can’t promise anything about Millicent, but I will do what I can.”


	4. Friends Like These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the people who left comments and kudos. <3

Hux had just finished tucking the last of the miniature golden AT-ATs into his storage closet when he heard a knock on the door.

“Yes?” he called.

“It’s Mitaka and Phasma!” the lieutenant replied.

Hux frowned. He couldn't think of any reason for the unexpected visit. Typically, Mitaka and Phasma only came to plan assassinations, and as far as he knew, there were none on the agenda for the next eleven months.

“What do you want?” he snapped peeking out of the door.

“Just wanted to chat about a few things that happened today, General,” Mitaka said.

“We need to talk about you getting courted by a bunch of rich guys because you clearly don’t know what’s going on,” Phasma clarified.

“I’m actually in the middle of reviewing the brib… the gifts I’ve received,” Hux grumbled as he let them into the room.

Indeed, the general had received quite the loot. So far, he had met with ten suitors and had received tenfold his usual paycheck in gifts. Though he still despised the idea of marrying any of them, the wealth almost compensated for the pain. It was a shame that nine out of the ten suitors had given up after a few hours, complaining about the young general’s surly personality and the fact that his cat was “a demonic ball of orange fluff with a taste for blood”.

That left Pryde as the only suitor among the First Order generals who had decided to suck it up and keep trying. He had mostly given up on his initial attempts to relate to Hux on any terms other than finances. Hux was somewhat glad of it. So far, their conversations had ranged from unimpressive to excruciating. Most infuriating of all was the fact that Pryde still refused to refer to Hux as “General”. Perhaps that was why the subordinate officers were so keen on the marriage, being the filthy traitors that they were. No one called addressed him by anything that wasn’t preceded by “General” on the ship. Even the singing and dancing, Rebel Scum fool Dameron had had the decency to call him _“General_ Hugs”.

_Dameron_. Hux still wasn’t sure what to make of that man. He wasn’t even completely sure whether or not they were dating. If dating entailed cute dinner outings and cuddling, they most certainly were not. However, Dameron had teased the general about it so many times that he was starting to doubt himself. According to Ren, a date was any time when one engaged in an emotionally charged battle, in which case, maybe… just maybe, Hux _had_ gone on a date with Dameron. And maybe, just maybe, he _did_ have some kind of romantic interest in the man. Regardless, that was all a moot point if he went ahead with marrying another general…

_Just think about the monomolecular blades_ , Hux thought. _Pryde has thirty of them. All brand-new, crystalline carbonite._

“So, what was it about my impending doomed marriage that you wished to discuss?” Hux asked, sitting down on the couch beside Millicent.

“Well,” Mitaka hesitated. “I promised General Pryde I’d talk to you and Millicent about the… biting.”

“Biting?” Hux repeated, looking to Millicent as if to ask her opinion on the matter. The cat gave both him and the lieutenant an unremorseful gaze before going back to licking her paws.

“General,” the lieutenant sighed. “I know you might not like Pryde, but perhaps you could find another way to express your feelings besides using your teeth?”

No sooner had Mitaka finished his sentence did Hux hear a strain of guitar chords. He stood up in alarm, searching for the source of the sound.

“Is something wrong?” Mitaka asked.

“Didn’t you hear that?” Hux said.

Mitaka and Phasma shook their heads. By then, the music had stopped. So, Hux begrudgingly decided to drop the topic. He only hoped it wasn’t another Resistance break-in.

“The point is, General,” Phasma said, “No matter how unappealing you find Pryde’s personality, you are not going to back out of this marriage. Remember you’re not just getting a sugar daddy for yourself; you’re getting a sugar daddy for our entire sector of the fleet. You see, if you get promoted to Grand Marshal, the rest of us also get the chance to be promoted farther up the hierarchy, we all get pay raises, and everyone is happy. If you don’t get married, you don’t get the promotion, we don’t get any promotions, _and_ we go broke. Simple as that.”

“Now, Phasma, we don’t want to pressure him too much,” Mitaka said.

The lieutenant watched Hux with a kind of motherly concern that most certainly did not fit how a lieutenant ought to look at their general. Hux sighed. Was this really what he had to deal with for being two years younger?

“This is serious, Mitaka!” Phasma said. “With all the money Ren is wasting, our finances are going to be in the red. We either need to make this marriage work or convince Ren to stop being immature and wasteful, and I think we all know the second choice is next to impossible. So, General, whatever you do, do not scare off General Pryde like you scared off the other nine suitors. No more biting. No more death threats till after the wedding vows. Remember, if you don’t like him later on, you can always kill him, so long as he doesn’t kill you first, but not before you're married.”

Hux took a moment to consider this before nodding in agreement.

“Come on, Phasma,” he said. “I’m not some silly schoolgirl.”

 “I just wanted to let you know that, although you don’t have much say in the issue,” Mitaka said. “We do… or at least, I do, sympathize with how difficult it must be. We know that it must be disappointing for you with all your dreams of marrying a handsome young pilot and…”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST ACCUSE ME OF?!” Hux shrieked.

Fortunately for the lieutenant, the general was soon distracted by another strain of guitar music. Hux stormed to door and swung it open. There, in the hallway, was a Stormtrooper, sitting on a large MSE droid, playing romantic guitar music.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hux yelled at the trooper.

“Playing the background music for your song, sir,” the trooper said cheerily.

“My what?!”

“You know… the song where you sing about how you want to follow your heart with love but you can’t because of all the responsibilities you long to be free from,” the trooper replied, as if the answer were obvious.

“My…” Hux was trembling with rage now. “There will be no such song. For the last time, I am not longing to be free. I am not emotionally torn between love and responsibility. I am perfectly contented with any marriage in which there is money and power and maybe good sex if I’m lucky, and your kriffing romanticism can go straight into the trash compactor!”

The trooper stared at him in confusion.

“General,” he said. “The lyrics to your song have to rhyme. Otherwise I can’t really figure out an accompaniment.”

“That wasn’t a kriffing song!’ Hux grabbed the trooper’s guitar and smashed it into the ground for good measure.

“Aww… but it would have gone so nicely with Dameron’s song,” the trooper whined.

The general slammed the door shut and returned to his guests, seething.

“Well, it looks like you’re not in the best of moods now, sir,” Mitaka said, taking the hint and heading towards the exit.

“Like always,” Phasma added.

“We’ll leave you to your emotional conflict then,” said the lieutenant.

“For the last time, I don’t have an emotional conflict!” Hux shouted after them as the pair left his chamber.

He could hear them talking about him as they went:

_“Really. I think a song would do him some good. Relieve some of that romantic tension, you know?”_

Hux slumped down on the couch. As he attempted to sleep, the Stormtrooper’s guitar chords played on repeat in his head.

“This is why spontaneous singing should be illegal,” he said.

Millicent mewled in agreement.

* * *

 

Poe had expected the Resistance to be worried sick about him. He had expected to come back to joyful tears and hugs from his brothers and sisters in arms, after which General Organa, having realized during his absence how much he contributed to the cause, would promote him back to the rank of Commander and give him a pay raise using some newly discovered funding which would allow him to win the heart of any gold-digging general out there. (Perhaps that last part had been a bit of a stretch, but was the promotion just for the title really too much to ask for?)

Instead, he’d been greeted by an empty runway. Unnerved by the silence, he was about to assume the worst when BB-8 alerted him to the lights in the meeting room.

And that was when he found the Resistance gathered around a chessboard, playing monopoly. Not waiting for him to get back. Not organizing a search party. _Playing monopoly on a kriffing chessboard._

It was a very underwhelming welcome.

“Ehhem!” Poe cleared his throat, forcing the Resistance to freeze in the middle of their board game.

“Oh, Poe!” said Rose. “We were wondering where you were! Do you want to share a piece in the game with me and Finn? I got the shoe figurine, but we managed to buy Tosche Station, so, we’re doing good…”

“What do you mean you were wondering where I was?” Poe gaped. “I was captured by the First Order!”

Rose exchanged confused looks with the rest of the Resistance. Meanwhile, Leia leaned back in her seat and looked on at the sorry scene.

“I’m getting too old for this,” she said. “I need a vacation. Everyone else in my generation has retired in some way. Han and Luke are off in the afterlife. Lando’s touring casinos…”

“We left him behind?!” Rose hissed at Finn. “How did you guys not notice?”

“Hey, Rey and I were busy escaping ourselves!” Finn said. “You were supposed to escape with Connix, and Poe went with BB-8.”

“Yeah!” Rey chimed in. “We didn’t have time to check the other pairs! We had a lot on our plate! We had to fight Kylo Ren! You guys should have been looking for…”

“You were kissing Kylo Ren!” Connix said.

_“You did what?”_ Leia was aghast.

“That was… no, I didn’t!” Rey hesitated. “That was the angle of the lightsaber fight!”

“RAWWRR!” Chewbacca chimed in, rolling the dice for the next move in the boardgame.

“Wait!” Poe hollered over the crowd. “You mean you weren’t even looking for me and BB-8? You didn’t even realize we were gone?! All this time we could have been murdered or tortured or having to put up with Kylo Ren whining, you didn’t even miss us and just started playing monopoly?!”

The Resistance was silent for a moment. Finally, Leia broke the silence.

“I know I should have done a head count,” she muttered. “This is just like the time we lost Ben during the field trip to Endor. Next thing we knew, he had dug up Vader’s head in the woods.”

“It’s not like that, Poe,” Connix said. “We weren’t just having fun without you. This is strategic monopoly.”

BB-8 gave an offended squeal.

“I know, Buddy,” Poe said to the droid. “What the hell is strategic monopoly? And why are you playing it on a chess board?!”

Connix held up the boardgame box, which read “Free the Galaxy Monopoly” in golden letters.

“It’s still monopoly,” Poe was fuming now. “Wouldn’t you all rather be actually freeing the galaxy? Not just playing a boardgame about it? I almost got killed stealing pens and pencils in the First Order for you guys to write down a strategy so we can actually start blowing up some real ships, and all you want to do is play monopoly?!”

The rest of the Resistance was silent, save the sound of plastic dice rolling against the table.

BB-8 decided he had enough. After waving his lighter at the rest of the Resistance and beeping a few binary expletives, he rolled out of the room, beeping at Poe to follow him.

“You’re right, Buddy,” said Poe. “I think we both need some alone time.”

The rest of the Resistance watched him plod off into the main hangar.

“You guys think we should apologize?” asked Finn

“Probably,” said Rose. “Maybe get him chocolates and a card or something.”

“Yeah,” the others agreed. Chewie moaned in assent as well.

“Can I roll first?” Rey asked, shaking the dice. “It’s my turn to try to get out of First Order jail.”

“Go ahead,” said Finn. “Just no cheating with the Force this time.”

* * *

 

Poe ambled past the run-down ships of the makeshift Resistance hangar. He missed Black One. His current X-Wing was from the years of the Rebel Alliance and had certainly seen better days. Of course, none of that mattered if he wasn’t actually in a battle. The Resistance had been reluctant to go forward with any plans for an attack after the defeat on Crait, and since his demotion, Poe had had little luck in getting his ideas on the table. If only…

BB-8 squeaked angrily before Poe could break out into another song.

“Sorry, Buddy,” Poe said. “You’re right. We should spread out the songs.”

His wandering brought him to the boarding ramp of the Millennium Falcon. Having nowhere else to go, he entered the ship.

The Jedi texts were strewn across the chess table. One was half open, flipped to the first chapter. The others were untouched. Poe picked up one of the books, blowing a layer of dust off of the front cover. The droid rolled to his side, beeping in concern.

“I was thinking about that too,” Poe said to the droid. “I know we made that deal with Kylo Ren and all, but now, I’m not so sure. Like… why does he want these old books anyway? Who knows what’ll happen when we give them to him? For all we know, there’s some Force ban out there on Dark Side users reading the Jedi Texts. What if we offset the balance of the Force? What if it does something to Kylo… like making him even more grouchy? Or more powerful!”

BB-8 screeched.

“Turn him into a giant snake?” Poe laughed. “I think that’s a bit far-fetched, Buddy, but you’ve got a great imagination.”

He sat down beside the chess set and picked up one of the books. It wasn’t too thick, and the text was enlarged. Altogether it seemed like a short read. There didn’t appear to be any harm in Poe taking a look for himself. With all the fuss Kylo had made about them, he was quite curious. So, he flipped back to the first page and began to read:

_“Never underestimate the power of elevation. Back-flips are not substitutes for proper elevation…”_

As it turned out, the Jedi texts were not a short read. It was three hours past midnight when Poe finally reached the last line of the final volume.

_“In conclusion, never stand at the bottom of a ravine,”_ he concluded. _“And avoid standing over your nephew in their sleep with a creepy looking lightsaber.”_

He put the book down and rubbed his weary eyes. He was just about to fall asleep when the ship began to rumble. When he opened his eyes, the ship had filled with blue mist. Even stranger, the mist appeared to be coming from the books.

“This can’t be good,” he said. He looked about at the quavering ceiling, hoping that it wouldn’t cave in.

BB-8 was circling the table, beeping frantically.

“I don’t know what I did!” Poe screamed at the droid.

Now, Poe probably could have afforded to read a little more often. He never seemed to have much time for it. Between blowing up Starkillers and blasting TIE Fighters, it was hard to find time to sit down with a digital novel on his data pad or a nice paper book. So, yes, he wasn’t exactly the most familiar with books. That being said, he was pretty sure that none of this was supposed to happen when you started to read one.

The blue mist continued to issue from the fluttering pages, forming a spiral of wind. To Poe’s amazement, the spiral expanded upward and began to take the shape of a humanoid being. Finally, the mist dissipated, revealing a robed figure, glowing like a radioactive glass of Bantha milk. The figure stretched and looked around the ship. It then spotted Poe. After drifting a little closer to the ground, the figure smiled and said two words:

“Hello, there.”


	5. Phenomenal Cosmic Power

Poe gaped at the specter levitating before him. BB-8 tittered something about the hallucinatory effects of too much time cramped in an X-Wing.

“Who are you?” he gasped.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the figure said. “I am a Force ghost, as you can tell.”

“You mean… you’re the guy who Ben Solo is named after?” Poe asked.

Obi-Wan’s face darkened. Poe could have sworn he heard lightning strike above the ship.

“Do not mention Ben Solo to me,” Obi-Wan said. “Ever since he started with the whole ‘finishing what Darth Vader started’ business, Anakin’s ego has gotten even bigger.” He shook his head. “But let’s not talk about irritating things like that! We should be celebrating?”

“Celebrating?” Poe said nervously.

“Now, I don’t think you quite understand!” exclaimed the ghost. “You are the first person to finish reading the entire Jedi texts besides myself in the last ten thousand years! You see, it became apparent to the Jedi Council long ago that few Padawans were bothering to do their homework. So, we decided that we would give the first one to do so a little reward of three wishes. And you are that lucky young man!”

For a rare moment, Poe was speechless. He was sure this was a joke. At any point now, the Resistance was going to pop out of the Millennium Falcon and snap a picture of his bewilderment to tease him about later.

(And maybe they’d say they were also joking about forgetting about him after the escape and then they’d give him his rightful promotion back to Commander after all.)

“But… I’m not a Force user,” he said, once he finally found his voice.

“No matter,” said Obi-Wan. “We can bend the rules for one so well-read in the ways of the Force. Now, there are only a few caveats on the wishes. Rule number one: No bringing people back from the dead. Doing so would make Force ghosts obsolete, and we can’t have that happen. Rule number two: A Force ghost can’t kill anyone or help you in a lightsaber battle in which one person intends to kill the other. Rule number three: A Force ghost can’t make anyone fall in love, and in the same vein, I can’t force anyone to switch alliances or sides of the Force. Jedi are forbidden to love. It might sound silly to you, but you’ll be wishing you followed the rule if you end up kissing your sister! And Rule number four: No wishing for more wishes. I have an afterlife to live!”

“I thought Force ghosts weren’t allowed to intervene with this world,” Poe said.

“That was mainly just something I told Luke so he wouldn’t summon me to do silly things he could easily do himself,” Obi-Wan explained. “And technically his fight against Vader violated rule number two. So, what’s the first wish going to be?”

BB-8 whirred excitedly, already beeping suggestions.

“Calm down, Buddy,” said Poe. “I don’t think we want to blow the first wish on a lifetime supply of blue milkshakes just yet.” He turned to the Force ghost. This still sounded too good to be true. “So, it can be anything?”

“Anything,” the ghost replied.

“Wow,” Poe said. “I didn’t know the Jedi were that powerful. Maybe I should tell Rey…”

“Well, it isn’t all Jedi, you see,” Obi-Wan said. “I gained my phenomenal cosmic power from a very specific rule I followed in life: always having the high ground.”

Poe gave him an incredulous stare.

“Really?” he said, still a little puzzled by the vitality of the high ground. “All that power just from standing on a hill?”

“Young Master Dameron,” Obi-Wan said. As he spoke, several other Force ghosts appeared playing trumpets as live musical accompaniment. “I don’t think you quite realize the advantage there is to be earned! So, why don’t you and your droid just sit around, and hear about the high ground… in song.”

“Er… do we really have to?” Poe asked. “I mean I just read three whole books on it…”

But it was too late.

_“Well, Luke Skywalker had his saber skill…_

_And famous Force-sensitive blood it’s true._

_But in the end, it was to no avail!_

_He found himself all alone on Ahch-To!”_

“Too soon!” Poe gasped.

“Yeah!” the Force ghost of Luke Skywalker said, smashing his trumpet into the ground.

_“He didn’t have the power of the hill_

_No, he didn’t even have a small slope._

_Without this! Bam! Boom! You’re an easy kill!_

_But I’m here to give you all one last hope!_

_They all ask…_

_‘Obi (or Ben), Master?_

_What might your secret be?_

_How’d you bring down Grievous and Darth Maul?’_

_Well, no one has the high ground like me!_

_No, no, no!”_

Obi-Wan snapped his fingers and the Millennium Falcon dissolved into the battlefield on Crait. This time, however, the tides of war had changed. The Resistance was no longer outnumbered, having enlisted the aid of another thousand men, who all resembled a younger version of Obi-Wan. Poe couldn’t decide whether this was a victorious or terrifying moment.

_“Life is your battlefield_

_And I’m your clone army._

_Yeah, I’ll make sure that your enemies yield,_

_‘Cause, no one has the high ground like me!”_

The battlefield disappeared and Poe found himself in a cantina on Tatooine.

_“Captain! We pride ourselves in service_

_You’re the boss, the Rebel’s star!_

_Just set our course, and I’ll use the Force!_

_How ‘bout some blue milk from this Bantha?”_

Poe politely declined a very hairy glass of blue milk before being zapped into a brand-new A-Wing. The new ride had him beaming. It seemed he’d stumbled on a pretty good deal indeed.

_“Try flying this new A-wing._

_Too slow? Then try the B…”_

The A-wing transformed into an even faster B-wing followed by a gleaming X-Wing as Obi-Wan finished his verse:

_“The X is best. Luke can attest._

_But he doesn’t have high ground like me.”_

The ghost orchestral began their musical interlude while Obi-Wan grabbed a drink of water, spilling it onto the floor through his incorporeal body. Meanwhile, Luke had given up his spot in the band to complain to Obi-Wan:

“What’s with you today and making this whole song a competition about how you’re a better Jedi than me? I thought I was your Padawan!”

“Eh… everyone says mean things about their Padawans,” Obi-Wan said. “Remember what you said about Ben? Don’t be so sensitive! Learn to laugh at yourself. Like that time when you got glued to the bantha cave ceiling. I was laughing.”

“This is why the Jedi need to end,” Luke sulked.

To Poe’s disappointment, the X-Wing disappeared and he found himself seated in a theater next to BB-8, watching blurry holovids of Obi-Wan’s past achievements, ranging from riding a rainbow-colored varactyl to summersaulting over lava.

_“Can Windu do this?_

_Can Yoda do that?_

_Can Ani fight me off? That sand-hating prat!_

_Vader strikes me down…_

_I disappear! (Haha!)_

_Can Qui-Gon go, ‘These aren’t the droids you’re looking for!’_

_And make the troopers move out of here?_

_So, don’t you doubt the power that I’ve got!_

_I’ll take you up the high ground for a ride!_

_Just think of all the Sith Lords I have fought!_

_I’ve got the Midichlorians on my side!_

_I’ve got that Force sensitivity!_

_And it’s not just for controlling your mind!_

_It’s not just for defying gravity.._

_I’ll grant you three wishes of any kind…_

_And so…_

_Captain Poe Dameron, sir, have a wish or two or three…_

_I’ll be the source of all your Force_

_No one has the higher ground… I have the high ground…_

_No one has the higher ground… I have the high ground…_

_No one ever… has high… ground… like… ME!_

_No one has the high ground quite like…”_

“Okay! Okay!” Poe said. “I get it! Thank you for the very long song about the high ground to complement those very long books about the high ground.”

Obi-Wan’s face fell. Even his band of Force ghosts looked dejected.

“You didn’t like it?” he said.

“Er… no, I liked it!” Poe said. To be fair, the song was quite catchy, though he still wasn’t sure whether the high ground deserved so much recognition. “Good job, guys.”

“Good!” Obi-Wan called over to the other Force ghosts. “He liked it!”

The other Jedi cheered.

“Would you like to hear it again?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I… don’t think that’s necessary,” said Poe. “But thanks!”

Obi-Wan nodded and waved for the other Force ghosts to leave.

“Alright,” he said. “You can go back to the afterlife. I’ll handle this young, well-read fellow here.”

The other Force ghosts faded away, congratulating Poe on finishing the Jedi Texts as they went.

“Now, have you decided on your first wish?” Obi-Wan said, coming down to hover beside the chess table.

BB-8 nudged Poe’s leg and beeped the most obvious suggestion.

“I don’t suppose you could end the war, could you?” Poe asked.

“Sorry, Captain,” said Obi-Wan. “That would violate the non-intervention clause of Rule Number 2.”

“I thought so,” Poe said. “Well, it was worth a shot, BB.”

He paced about the Falcon, running through the long list of possible wishes. He’d talked to Rey about possibly getting a frozen yogurt stand for the Resistance, but that was too trivial. As he considered the options, his eyes fell on the transmission controls of the ship. A grin crept across his face as his heart beat a little faster at the thought of a certain sulking general.

“Well, there’s this guy in the First Order…” he said.

“Stop right there!” Obi-Wan cut him off. “I’ve seen that look twice before: first when Anakin looked at Padmé, and secondly when Luke looked at that hologram of his sister.”

The Force ghost of Luke reappeared next to Obi-Wan, glaring at his former mentor.

“Would you stop bringing that up?” Luke snapped.

“Learn to take a joke,” Obi-Wan said, waving away Luke’s ghost, who disappeared in a huff. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I can’t make anyone fall in love or switch alliances.”

“Oh, but, Obi-Wan,” Poe whined. “He’s smart and strong-willed and…”

“Pretty?” Obi-Wan suggested.

“Nah, he doesn’t like being called pretty,” Poe said. “He’s beautiful though. He’s got these green eyes that flash sapphire blue when he fires a death ray… he’s got these cheekbones that just… ah, and this red hair that’s kind of falling out from stress but still vibrant… and wow, his a…”

“Oh, I know,” Obi-Wan said, evidently unimpressed. “And he’s everything soft and smooth… I’ve heard it all before. It doesn’t change Rule Number 3.”

“I know,” Poe sighed. “It’s just. I know you can’t make him switch sides and all, but if he was in the Resistance… man, with a mind like on our engineering team, everything would change. But, he’s a general in the First Order, and even if I didn’t have some moral reservations about his alliance, he wouldn’t want to marry me. ‘Rebel Scum’, you know? And now, they’ve got some new law thanks to Supreme Woe-Is-Me that says Hugs can’t become Grand Marshal unless he marries another First Order general. So, he’s probably going to have to settle for that Pryde guy and…”

Then, the solution hit him.

“Can you make me a First Order general?” he asked, crossing his fingers.

“Are you willingly switching alliances?” Obi-Wan questioned.

“Yes!” Poe said. BB-8 zapped his heel with a scolding beep. “I mean… no. I mean… Okay. I want to be a First Order general in terms of title, power and whatever else it’ll take to convince the real First Order people that I’m legit, but my actual alliance to the Resistance won’t change. In fact, I could actually use this to our advantage! Think of what we could do if we actually controlled a branch of the enemy fleet!”

BB-8 drew back his electrode and whirled in support of the idea.

“Is that an official wish, then?” Obi-Wan said.

“Yes!” Poe said, nodding his head eagerly. “Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, I wish to be the richest, most powerful general in the First Order with control over more of the fleet and more golden AT-ATs than any general who has ever courted Armitage Hux!”

“Next time I talk to the Jedi Council,” Obi-Wan said. “I will be sure to amend the rules to limit the number of descriptive phrases per wish…” He rolled his eyes. “But I’ll count that as one wish just this time. One First Order general coming right up!”


	6. Marshal the Parade!

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Poe asked Obi-Wan, staring at his new uniform. “Shouldn’t I at least wear a mask or something? I feel like they’ll recognize my face.”

“Nonsense!” Obi-Wan assured him. “I’ll just wave my hand and say, ‘This is not Poe Dameron’ and it’ll all be just fine. And they won’t even know it was me. I’m only visible to Force-sensitives I chose to appear to and those who have read the Jedi-texts, you know. Now, if the First Order is anything like the Empire, you’ll need a little more pomp and circumstance to impress the snobs. Do you have a grand entrance in mind?”

Poe stopped to think. Ideally, he would arrive with things that would make Hux smile, but he wasn’t completely sure that Hux was capable of smiling. Nonetheless, there were a few things that the general seemed at least a little fond of.

“Hugs likes… AT-ATs,” Poe said. “Bombs. Giant lasers. Cats… I think he likes tarine tea and pink ice cream too, but that last one might just be a rumor.”

“AT-ATs,” Obi-Wan muttered. His eyes drifted to BB-8. “I think I might have just the thing!”

With a wave of his hand, a burst of blue mist encircled BB-8, expanding to crowd the whole area.

“BB-8!” Poe shouted. “What did you do to my droid?!”

When the mist cleared, his jaw dropped. Where BB-8 had been a moment before was an orange-and-white AT-AT, a little smaller than the usual transports, but heavily armed. It wasn’t until the attack transport beeped furiously in binary, swearing its revenge against Obi-Wan, that Poe realized what had happened.

“Buddy,” he said to the droid-turned-AT-AT. “You look good!”

BB-8 shot a laser towards Obi-Wan’s ghost, only to have the beam go straight through the old man.

“We can’t simply have you mosey in on a puny X-Wing,” Obi-Wan said. “Now, do you know how to ride an AT-AT?”

* * *

 

Hux settled down in his bed chambers at the new base on Tatooine. He wasn’t sure why they had decided to build a base on Tatooine beyond the Supreme Leader’s petty desire to overtake his uncle’s homeland, but he supposed it could have been worse. At least he had quite comfortable quarters, complete with an adorable tarine tea machine and more closet space to store bribes from suitors. There was even a balcony with a turbolaser with which he could fire at X-Wings during the cooler, starlit nights.

The Tatooinian nights were fairly calm, perfect for a well-deserved good night’s rest. But of course, a good night’s rest was not meant to be. Hux awoke fifteen minutes into deep sleep to a pounding in his skull. He rolled over onto his side, covering his head with his pillow, hoping that it would stop on its own. He soon realized, however, that the pounding was not a mere headache but the sound of drums.

“Bloody Stormtrooper Marching Band rehearsing at this obscene hour,” he muttered, slinking out of bed and staggering out of his bedroom.

It wasn’t until he had stepped out of his private quarters did he realize he was still in his night gown. Even worse, he had forgotten to apply his hair gel, leaving his hair a tousled mess of red locks. Before he could turn back to dress himself properly, Kylo Ren came storming down the hall.

“Hux!” the Supreme Leader bellowed. “Make the drums shut up!”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux slurred. Half of his mind was still caught in the delightful dream he’d just had about decimating the last Rebel Base while sipping tarine tea. He hoped that he could resume the dream once this nonsense settled down. “I have told the Stormtrooper Marching Band time and time again to restrict their rehearsals to the afternoon. If you wish to take further action against them, I suggest consulting Phasma.”

“Well, you need to try harder if…”

The two bickering leaders were interrupted by Thanisson running down the hall. The petty officer skidded to a halt.

“Supreme Leader,” he panted. “General… the drums… are not the Stormtrooper Marching Band… it’s… it’s coming from outside the fleet.”

Hux’s eyes lit up in horror.

“We’re under attack!” he gasped. “Assemble the troops!”

He ran to the Command Bridge as fast as his bedtime slippers could carry him. Millicent, who had slipped out through her cat door, trotted after him.

“Is General Hux wearing a fluffy pink night gown?” Thanisson asked, watching the general hobble off with a puzzled frown.

“Yes, officer,” said Kylo.

“Huh,” said Thanisson. “He looks good.”

* * *

 

Hux entered the Command Bridge to the cacophony of fifty different alarms going off at the same time.

“Sir!” Mitaka called to him. “We have done as you requested and set off every alarm in the fleet!”

“What?!” Hux snapped. “I never requested that! I said to assemble the troops!”

“Unfortunately, we’ve found that the Stormtroopers are confused as to which alarm means they should assemble,” Mitaka said. “We found that if we set all of them off, there is less confusion.”

“Fine,” Hux growled, covering his ears. “Where’s the enemy attacking from? What do our scanners detect?”

The technicians in the pit turned to him with baffled stares.

“They can’t hear you sir!” Mitaka shouted over the alarms.

“Argh!” Hux groaned. “Well, turn the alarms down then!”

“Right away, sir.”

After a while of shouting back and forth with the technicians, the crew was able to reduce the volume of the alarms on the Command Bridge. To Hux’s horror, the alarms became perfectly synchronized with the beating of the drums.

“It’s the Resistance,” he said. “No one else in this galaxy has that level of rhythmic coordination!”

“It can’t be the Resistance, sir,” said one of the technicians. “Our radar is picking up AT-ATs.”

“Never mind the radar,” another technician said. She climbed out of the pit to point out the main viewport. “You can see them from here. It can’t be the Resistance. It doesn’t even look like an attack.”

“What the hell is it then?!” Hux screamed.

Mitaka squinted out the viewport.

“It looks like a parade,” he said.

“That would explain the drums,” Captain Peavey added. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“No, it is not obvious,” Hux said. “Why would we be having a parade at this time of night in an active war zone? It’s utterly…”

The general was interrupted by the screech of the intercom. He did not recognize the voice of the announcer:

“Attention, ‘good’ people of the First Order. Please clear all TIE Fighters and Stormtroopers from the path of the procession! For those of you who are too far away to witness the spectacle first-hand, the hologram systems of your fleet will be displaying live footage of the event! Enjoy and may the Force be with you!”

“Hux!” Kylo Ren seethed, lumbering onto the Bridge. “Is it my uncle on the intercom?”

“I doubt it, Supreme Leader,” Hux said. “Please do not have the entire fleet fire at the announcement system again.”

The drums continued to pound away, this time blasted over the intercom. The hologram projectors flickered to life, displaying a close-up of the procession.

“Turn them off!” Hux ordered.

“We can’t, sir,” Mitaka said. “We’re locked out of the system.”

Hux stamped his foot in frustration and scowled at the holograms. As upset as he was about having his entire fleet hacked, he could not deny that the parade was impressive. The entire horizon was filled with AT-ATs, TIE Fighters, Star Destroyers and Stormtroopers, each firing at targets with flawless aim, something he had thought was impossible.

The intercom erupted with music, complete with trumpets and a full chorus:

_“Make way, for General D!_

_Say hey! It’s General D!”_

“Another suitor,” Hux grumbled.

“General D?” Mitaka said, turning to Peavey. “I’ve never heard of him?”

“Neither have I,” Peavey said.

Before they could debate the matter further, the anonymous announcer began to sing:

“ _Hey, clear the way of cannons and TIEs_

_Hey you, come, wake up to salute and rise!_

_He’s here to bring all Rebel Scum down to their knees…_

_Don’t rise up in arms!_

_He’s your friend! No alarms!_

_He’s your most trusted ally!_

_General D! Fabulous he!_

_So not Poe Dameron._

_Here to make war criminals get up and flee!_

_So, don’t just stand there and stare!_

_Get dolled up! Gel up your hair!_

_And come and meet the latest Tarkin-wannabe…”_

“I take personal offense to that!” Hux snarled.

_“General D!_

_Austere is he!_

_And not Poe Dameron._

_The most famous general, obviously.”_

“Oh, yeah! That guy!” Mitaka said. “I remember him now.”

“Ah, yes, I remember the day he was promoted!” said Peavey.

Hux and Kylo stared at each other.

“Am I the only one who’s never heard of this guy?” Kylo whispered.

“I’ve heard of him, but not as a general,” Hux said. “Can’t you see it’s Poe Dameron!”

Kylo recoiled as if Hux had uttered something obscene.

“Hux, how can you be so dumb?” he said. “Weren’t you paying attention to the song? He said, ‘So not Poe Dameron’ in the first refrain!”

“That’s exactly what you’d say if you really were Poe Dameron!” Hux shrieked. “How many people just walk around saying ‘I’m not Poe Dameron’.”

“Hey, that’s how I greet people every morning!” one of the technicians called out.

“Okay, Hux,” Kylo said. “I think you need to shut up and listen closer. Because I don’t have time to explain the obvious.”

“Kill me now,” Hux sighed.

_“He faced ninety X-Wings here!_

_A hundred prank calls and jeers!_

_Who made them run off in fear?_

_Why General D!”_

The procession was close enough now for Hux to see that the song was not lying about the new so-called general’s military prowess. Hux tried to hide his glee at the sight of the gleaming weapons and enormous armed transports marching into the premises.

_“He’s got seventy-five golden AT-ATs!”_

_And Pryde thought he was so impressive with five_ , Hux thought.

_“TIE Silencers he’s got fifty-three!”_

“Mine is still better,” Kylo huffed.

_“When it comes to poison and assassins…_

_He’s got all the stealth,_

_The bribes, the wealth!_

_Killed his rivals but still walked free!”_

Before any of the superior officers could stop them, the technicians and Stormtroopers had rushed to the viewport, squealing in excitement in a duet with the announcer:

_“General D, Remember D’s not for Poe Dameron”_

_(“There’s no doubting that his fleet’s gigantic! Just watching him makes my heartbeat frantic!”)_

_“With that shout! No one will doubt his mastery!”_

_(“Everything about him just screams ‘we have victr’y”)_

_“Check out his turbolasers!”_

_(“I adore the way he gives an order!”)_

_“Molec blades sharp as razors!”_

_(“Gonna pull the Rebel fleet asunder!”)_

_“And his full solar-powered artillery!”_

_(“He’s the champion of our conquest fantasy!”)_

“No, he’s not!” both Kylo and Hux screamed at the underlings.

“Get away from the viewport,” Peavey ordered, shooing the technicians back to their station. “You’re too young to be admiring another man’s turbolasers like that!”

“I’m twenty-one!” said one technician.

“Old enough to drink does not mean old enough to fall in love,” Hux reminded them.

The parade had reached the main entrance now. Seeing that everyone was up on the viewports watching the procession, there was no one to answer the door. So, logically, the new general ordered a Battering Ram Cannon to come forward.

“No, no, no!” Hux shouted, running down to the hangar. “We just got that door replaced after Ren stabbed it!”

_“He’s got ninety-five new ventral cannons!_

_(“Let’s use the cannons! Bring on the cannons!”)_

_If yours break, he’ll replace them for free!_

_(“Cause let’s face it! They’re bound to break!”)_

_If the Rebels try negotiations…_

_(“They all surrender!”)_

_They’ll bend to his whim! All obey him!_

_They’re just that scared to death, you see, of that D! General D!”_

Hux reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see the Battering Ram Cannon break through the door, allowing in the entire parade, illuminated by a fiery glow that was strangely alluring.

_“General D! Aloof is he!_

_So, not Poe Dameron!_

_Heard the general here’s thin, young and pasty!_

_And that, dear cronies, is why_

_He called his troops and dropped by_

_With sixty destroyers! Troopers and guards!_

_With his TIEs and shuttles,_

_Coaxium shards,_

_With his forty cruisers, his bounty hunters_

_His porgs that all screech on key!_

_Make way for General D!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those of you who would like to better visualize Hux's outfit, one of my favorite artists on tumblr, itssteffnow has a work of General Hux in a pink bathrobe ([Here](https://itssteffnow.tumblr.com/post/184830007455/ok-sorry-for-the-double-post-but-over-on-twitter)) that is really good. Their art is great in general and I highly recommend checking out their blog.


	7. Too Many D's

Hux peeked out from the cargo crates he had taken cover behind, stunned and fuming. Alleged General D was sitting atop the head of an AT-AT with peculiar orange plates, his silhouette lined by the burning ambers of what was once the hangar’s front gates. The transport lowered its head, making a grating whirring noise in the process. To Hux’s confusion, there didn’t seem to be anyone inside controlling it.

When he was low enough to the ground, General D leaped off. It wasn’t until he was walking towards Hux that the latter, who had been too distracted by the damage and overcrowding (the hangar really was not designed to hold seventy-five ventral cannons, much less sixty Star Destroyers), remembered he was still in his nightgown. It was too late to change. All he could do now was pat down his sleep-tousled hair as much as he could and stuff his gloveless hands into his pockets to salvage some degree of decency.

“What happened to your uniform?” Phasma asked, coming down from the hall behind him.

“I was trying to sleep,” Hux yawned.

“Still, trying, are you?” Phasma scoffed. “Well, go on and say hello. Maybe disheveled redheads in pink are his type.”

Hux tried to stay behind the crate, only to have Phasma nudge him forward. More people were arriving in to witness the scene. Kylo Ren marched into the hangar, followed by Pryde and the rest of the High Command.

“I thought we weren’t expecting any more suitors,” Ren grouched. “I’m sick of all this socializing!”

“Don’t act like it’s my fault,” Hux snapped back. “I didn’t invite this…”

“General D,” said the newcomer, stepping forward. “General D of the First Order.”

He extended a hand to Hux, which the latter shrank away from. Millicent hissed, showing her fangs and stepping between Hux and General D.

“Very bold of you, General D, to attempt to touch Armitage’s hand so early on,” Pryde remarked. He turned to the other officers and added, “And I see he’s decided not to bite now…”

“I’ve touched his hand before,” General D replied.

The entire First Order let out a scandalized gasp. Hux blushed as red as a Tatooinian sun.

“In my dreams, I mean,” General D lied. “I… I…” He took a deep breath. “Just forget I said that. Let’s move on to something else… how about gifts. You like gifts, right?”

An eager murmur moved through the troops. General D took a step back and gestured to his entourage.

“We have seventy-five golden AT-ATs,” he said. “I’ve brought one in for your… um… shiny golden viewing pleasure.”

A horde of Stormtroopers wheeled in the aforementioned AT-AT. The chatter rose in excitement. Hux, however, remained unimpressed.

“Solid gold?” he questioned. “And full-sized? That doesn’t sound very practical for battle.”

“It’s just for show,” General D said.

“All seventy-five of them?” Hux asked dubiously.

“Uh… yeah, but…” General D hesitated. “But… we have seventy-five other normal AT-ATs that are fully functional for blasting Rebel Scum and stuff…” He cleared his throat and waved away the troopers with the golden AT-ATs. “But enough of that. We also have blasters. Lots of blasters. Any firing range, size or color you want. We have a glow-in-the-dark one too that’s kind of neon green when it isn’t dark. That might go well with your pink uniform.”

“This isn’t my uniform,” Hux insisted, trying to tune out the snickering troops. “My actual uniform is much more dignified.” He sighed, glancing at the tuffs of pink fuzz falling from his sleeve. “And it doesn’t tend to shed quite this much.”

“You’re beautiful anyway!” General D blurted out.

The statement seemed to stun the First Order even more than the hand touch. Hux closed his eyes in frustration. He was now quite certain that this bumbling fool was indeed the cocky Resistance pilot he insisted not to be. Who else would have the nerve to discuss Hux’s physique in front of the entire army?

“Yeah, okay, I said it,” said General D. “You’re beautiful and especially cute with that fluffy hair of yours. I don’t think I’ve seen it like this in the posters. What made you change…”

He took a step closer to Hux, only to have the latter bat him away with the sleeve of his nightgown, making another ball of fluff fall from the garment in the process. Millicent caught one in her mouth, placing it between her paws and playing with it in a way that mirrored Hux’s movements.

“We can, um… talk about that later I guess,” General D struggled to regain momentum. “Now, where were we with the gifts. I showed you the golden AT-ATs. I… didn’t show you the tea yet.” He waved to his troops. “Bring out the tea. We have over a hundred different flavors of tarine tea with different levels of bitterness. While we’re getting you a cup, allow me to show you our new turbolasers. You can pick two to replace yours on the Finalizer. Free of charge. My gift to you. We have brand new Star Destroyers. If you marry me, you can have one all to yourself. In fact, that’s what I do. I have one all to myself just for sleeping.”

One of General D’s Stormtroopers arrived with a tall cup of blueberry tarine tea with extra caffeine. Hux accepted the drink, sipping up his morning dose of caffeine while the new suitor prattled on about the gifts. It seemed that about a quarter of his fleet was “for show”, as he had put it with the golden AT-ATs, but the monetary value still added up.

A smile crept across Hux’s face as he totaled the credits in his mind. He tried to wipe it away. It simply wouldn’t do for him to be grinning over the parade, lest his new suitor think he would be easily bought. Rebel Scum or not, he couldn’t make it _too_ easy.

“All these gifts,” he said. “They’re quite expensive, are they not?”

“Of course, they are!” General D said. “Only the best for you.”

“Do you mean to insinuate that I am for sale, then, General?” Hux asked.

The hangar fell silent, awaiting the suitor’s answer.

“Well, no, not like that,” General D said hurriedly.

Hux caught sight of Phasma, gesturing for him to be quiet, but ignored her. He knew how to handle himself.

“Exactly,” he said. “Not like this. Surely, you know that my affections are not going to come so cheap.”

Another murmur rose through the hangar. General Pryde threw his hands up in the air in frustration, muttering something to Captain Peavey. Meanwhile, Phasma stood in the corner, shaking her head and mouthing “Quit while you’re ahead”.

“Next time I’ll bring the solid diamond AT-ATs,” General D said. “I will. I’m not joking. I have seventy-five of those back home.”

“What is it with him and the number seventy-five?” Hux heard the officers murmuring behind him.

“And where is home for you?” Kylo Ren cut in.

The Supreme Leader stormed forward, bumping Hux to the side in the process.

“Oh, Supreme Leader,” General D said with a slight bow. “My apologies. I uh… didn’t see you back there. Your black cape blended in so well with the shadows, you see. I…”

“You’re not answering my question,” Kylo said.

“I guess home would be my flagship,” General D replied. “You know, the D… starts with D to match my name…  _the Dominion_.”

Kylo looked at Hux for confirmation. Hux shook his head.

“Last I checked, _the Dominion_ was under the Command of Admiral Veers in the Otomak System,” Hux said. “Unless there’s been a change.”

“No, you misheard me!” General D said. “I didn’t say Dominion; I said the D…”

“Pardon me,” Hux said. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“You know, the Do…” General D mumbled another incomprehensible name.

“The Dominator is under the command of General Pryde,” Hux sighed.

“Not, the Dominator. Listen to what I’m saying. The Do…”

Hux struggled to make out the mumbling. The only coherent phrase he could decipher didn’t seem plausible.

“Did you just say ‘The Dominatrix’?” he asked, feeling his face flush again. If not for Phasma having explained what a dominatrix was to him several months ago, he would have been significantly less shocked. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done to warrant that conversation. All he’d asked her about was hand holding and where baby Stormtroopers came from.

“Yes! That’s it!” exclaimed General D. “That’s my flagship!”

_Stars, Dameron,_ Hux thought. _Out of all the words that start with D. Why couldn’t you just say the Death Star III?_

“I… was not aware we had a ship of that name in our fleet,” was all he could think to say.

He looked to the rest of his officers, who were already on searching through the digital archives for the vessel in question.

“It’s here!” Thanisson said. “I found it in the directory!”

Hux stalked over to the petty officer and snatched up the data pad. To his disbelief, the Dominatrix was in fact listed in the directory as another Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer.

“Who the hell named that ship?” Kylo asked, looking over the general’s shoulder. “What kind of nonsense word is a Dominiontri?”

“Well, my apologies for doubting you,” Hux grumbled. “General…”

“D,” replied the suitor.

“D for what?” Hux asked. “And please don’t say ‘Dominatrix’ again. If that’s the case, we are definitely taking my last name in the event of a marriage.”

“No, it doesn’t stand for that,” General D assured him. “It’s just really long and hard to pronounce.”

Hux rolled his eyes. He was getting very tired of this game.

“Could you spell it out perhaps?” he asked.

“Sure, it’s, ‘D-O-M-N-H-A-’,” General D stopped to take a breath. “H-E-E-O-Y-O-Y-O-Y-E-O-W-L-O-O.”

“Domnhaheeoyoyoyeowloo?” Hux repeated. “Is that how it’s pronounced.”

“Uh… close enough,” General Domnhaheeoyoyoyeowloo said. “Now, you know why I go by the initial.”

At this point, Kylo and Pryde had also had enough.

“Supreme Leader, if I may be so bold to say so, I fear that this General D may be an imposter,” Pryde said. He narrowed his eyes, sizing up the newcomer. Kylo, meanwhile, already had a hand over the hilt of his lightsaber. “I don’t remember seeing you at any of the meeting with the other generals.”

“Aw… you mean I’m that nondescript without the entourage?” General D pouted.

Hux watched the scene unfold, tapping his slippers impatiently against the floor. He wasn’t sure how much more of Dameron’s fumbling he could take, and for reasons he didn’t understand, part of him _pitied_ the scum.

“If you were there, perhaps you could help me recall what we discussed during the last meeting,” Pryde continued his interrogation. “My memory fails me.”

“You know… crushing the Rebel Scum…” Poe said. “The Supreme Leader…”

“YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK?!” Kylo screamed, drawing the saber on Pryde. He clenched his fists, inadvertently choking Hux instead. Apparently, he was so used to choking the younger general at this point that it was hard for him to reorient his Force to choke anyone else.

“Supreme Leader, this man is evidently an imposter,” Pryde said. “I can assure you his claims are false. The rest of the High Command would never dream of criticizing your… creative way of managing the First Order.”

“Supreme Leader, I can’t breathe!” Hux gasped.

To his surprise, Ren released him. He sank to his knees only to have both Pryde and Dameron/ Domnhaheeoyoyoyeowloo rush to his aid.

“Get away from me!” Hux snarled. “Look at both of you, running toward me with those concerned looks. I am not a prize to be sympathized with!”

Pryde looked to General D and said with unexpected concern, “I hope you know what you’re getting into with this one. His teeth are a lot sharper than they look.”

“You know what, General D?” Kylo said, twirling his lightsaber in what was supposed to be an intimidating gesture but looked more like a whirling baton routine. “I think we have a lot of unexplained questions here. I know your introduction song said you’re ‘so not Poe Dameron’ all those times, but I’m starting to think you might be saying that maybe you lied or something. Like maybe, you just said you’re not Poe Dameron because you really are Poe Dameron and that ‘D’ doesn’t stand for what you said it does. One of those reverse psychology mind tricks…”

Before General D could give a retort, the troops watching from the overhang rose up in enthusiastic defense:

“That’s a lie!” said one of the Stormtroopers. “He’s clearly a First Order general. He’s dressed just like one!”

“And he has all the AT-ATs!” another Stormtrooper pointed out.

“General D! If Hux won’t marry you, I’m single!” a third Stormtrooper squealed.

_“That’s enough!”_

Hux’s screeching order ricocheted around the hangar, making all three generals’ armies wince.

“Okay, guys,” General D said. “If you want to throw all these accusations at me without any solid proof, I might just be on my way, taking my billions worth in credits and firepower in golden AT-ATs and turbolasers and porgs back to the _Dominatrix_ and the rest of my fleet…”

Hux watched as General D made a threatening step towards the sizzling door.

_Giving up so easily,_ he scoffed. He doubted it. The Poe Dameron he knew wasn’t one to give up easily. Then again, the Poe Dameron he knew didn’t have a fleet of the finest technology worth billions of credits either. And regardless of whether General D’s credentials were fake or not, his fleet – and all the money and military prowess tied up in it – was very real. Hux would have had to be absolutely insane to let that power fall under Resistance control. The thought of Dameron returning to his Rebel Scum friends and finding a new Rebel Scum fiancé to shower with gifts was too much to bear.

And he couldn’t ignore the fact that Dameron was also richer than the other generals in terms of looks. It was a side benefit in the grand scheme of things, but a sizeable benefit nonetheless. (And, as a side benefit to the side benefit, Hux estimated that the sex wouldn’t be too shabby either.)

“Wait,” Hux said, drawing the entire hangar’s attention. He took a deep breath. “My apologies, General D. Our courtesies are a little lacking today after the shock of having our front gate blasted open by such a hot and powerful Battering Ram Cannon.  We’d love to have your fleet… and you… stay the night, or longer if it would suit you.”

The grin on General D’s face dispelled any last doubt in Hux’s mind of the suitor’s true identity.

“That’s what I’m here for,” General D said.

He stepped forward and attempted to take Hux’s hand, but Phasma intervened.

“Both of you get to your rooms!” she screamed. She gave General D a scrutinizing scowl and said, “You touch his bare hand before the wedding night and I’ll kriffing castrate you.”

“Got it,” General D gulped.

“The troopers will show you to your room,” Hux said. He glanced at the rest of the entourage and added, “And, we’ll find a place to park your parade until you next need it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to change into something more…” He caught one of the Stormtroopers snapping a picture of him from the overhang. “Presentable.”

With that, Hux retreated to his private chambers, pondering the case at hand. Perhaps this dreadful matter of marriage had some advantage. He could still feel Dameron’s eyes running over his body. Even if the new general’s name was fake, that kind of “excitement” could not be feigned.

With the best pilot in the Resistance at his side and a fleet more than twice the size of what he currently commanded, Hux saw a very clear road to victory. It would just take a little bit of manipulation, and from what he’d heard from Phasma, that was part and parcel with the whole marriage deal anyway.


	8. Rich in Trust

Poe flopped back onto a stack of pillows with a blissful sigh. The mattress was a little stiffer than he would have liked – as was most of the First Order – but he didn’t think it was worth using his second wish to make them softer. Besides, the was still a definite upgrade from his cot back in the Resistance Base. In fact, the new suite in the First Order had given him was nearly half the size of the current Resistance Base, for that matter. He’d spent the first hour in the room playing with the automated faucets and ringing the Stormtrooper concierge service for Jogan fruit chips. The ceilings were even tall enough to fit BB-8. The droid had taken quite well to being an AT-AT, having discovered that threatening people with heavy laser cannons was much more effective than using his astromech lighter.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be enjoying the stay. He had spent most of the day circling the ceiling, sending down Force rays of disapproval. Poe had told him it was alright if he wanted to go back to the afterlife for a while, but Obi-Wan had insisted on staying to make sure Poe didn’t “end up in a mess like Luke”. It seemed he had become much more of an interventionist for this generation than he’d been for the last.

“You really outdid yourself with the parade, Master Kenobi,” said Poe. “You impressed Hugs. And I’m telling you, that guy is so hard to impress. It’s like nothing pleases him. Even when he’s destroying his most hated star system, the guy looks like he’s going to burst into tears. And not the happy kind either.”

“It was a very impressive parade,” Obi-Wan muttered. “With more dangerous things than I might have liked.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for those things,” Poe said defensively. “You were the one who said we needed ninety-five…”

“I know that,” Obi-Wan replied. “I just wished I had known that my powers do not allow me to make all those ships and weapons go away after I’ve made them.”

Poe stopped eating the bag of jogan fruit chips he had just opened and frowned.

“I thought you said you could do anything with the Power of the High Ground,” he said.

“The moral of the story, younglings, is that you read the fine print for everything,” Obi-Wan grumbled, pulling out a blue contract entitled ‘Use of the High Ground for Force Ghost wishes’. “I just hope you don’t let that fleet slip into the wrong hands.”

“Trust me, Obi,” Poe said. “Once I marry Hugs, I’ll be near the top of the First Order. There’s no way the Resistance can take on the whole Order down by itself. It’ll be easier to eat away from the inside out. If I can get Hugs on my side during the honeymoon-phase, we’re set.”

“That isn’t how I remember military hierarchy working,” Obi-Wan argued.

“The First Order doesn’t really work like a military,” Poe explained. “They’re more like a corporation-nunnery-monarchy-soap opera romance kind of thing that so happens to own a lot of military stuff and invade places. Believe me, if I can get this marriage with Hux set, I’ll have an uprising within the First Order itself in no time.”

“I suppose that might work then,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Though I wouldn’t count on that last part. I know you find this Armitage Hux guy cute but he still seems like a maniac to me. So, don’t go getting emotionally attached or anything.”

“Hmm… right, right,” Poe replied without much thought to his words.

Obi-Wan huffed and floated a little closer to the ground, taking in the high-tech modernity and lavish amenities.

“And try not to cozy up too much to all this luxury either,” he said. “The Rebels are a modest bunch in terms of material wealth, but… hey, I’m trying to lecture here!”

Poe didn’t answer, having tuned out Obi-Wan several minutes ago. The pilot was busy flipping through the channels on the broad-width hologram projector across from his bed.

“Hmm,” Poe said. “These things are a lot more fun to watch when you have more channels besides the security cameras and hologram conference calls.”

He settled on an old movie which, from what he could tell, centered on a beautiful, young Imperial officer who had attracted the romantic attention of two dashing fighter pilots and also appeared to be afflicted with amnesia, leaving her convinced that she was a radar technician in the Rebellion. It didn’t seem like a very promising premise to Poe, but there were numerous scenes with explosions and high-budget special effects, so he kept watching anyway.

The pilot was about to nod off when he heard a man sobbing hysterically.

“Did you hear that?” he asked Obi-Wan.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Obi-Wan said. “This is the dark side, after all. It’s full of tears and anger which leads to tears and… anger.”

Poe wasn’t convinced. He flipped off the projector (the movie, for all its special effects, was beginning to get on his nerves anyway with its saccharine dialogue) and pulled on his greatcoat. BB-8 stomped towards the door, making the entire room quake.

“It’s okay, Buddy,” Poe said. “I’ll be right back.”

BB-8 made a low whirring sound.

“Yeah, I’ll watch out for flaming laser sword psychopaths,” Poe reassured him, patting the panels of the transport’s leg.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Obi-Wan asked.

“That sounded like Hugs crying,” Poe said. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Obi-Wan attempted to block the entrance, only to realize that Poe could easily walk through him.

“I’m going along then,” Obi-Wan said. “I think you’ll be needing more mind-tricks along the way.”

“No need.” Poe said. “I’ll be taking the balcony entrance. That way, I run into fewer people, and more importantly, I’ll look cooler.”

“I don’t understand your generations’ priorities,” Obi-Wan muttered.

* * *

 

Hux was curled up on an ice-blue sofa, squeezing Millicent close to him while he cried. The cat mewled, struggling in his arms. She wasn’t fond of being treated like a plush animal. The bloody scratches on the general’s arms were evidence of her displeasure. Before she could resort to using her teeth, however, a shadow moving over the balcony caught the attention of both the feline and her equally feral human.

Releasing his cat onto the floor, Hux wiped the tearstains away with a lace handkerchief (he always kept a lace handkerchief on him, just as he was sure any sensible general would) and headed to the balcony. He kept his blaster by his side just in case.

“Show yourself!” To Hux’s dismay, the order came out more like a hiccup than an intimidating command.

“It’s just me!” the intruder called back.

Taking care to put on his gloves first, Hux drew back the curtain on the balcony and poked his head out.

“How did you get here?” he said, glaring at ‘General D’.

“I flew, obviously,” D replied. “Remember, I’ve got fifty-three TIE Silencers for personal use only.”

“Yes, I have all your assets on file,” Hux said. A smirk crossed his lips but was soon replaced by an aloof frown. “But that still doesn’t explain what you think you’re doing trespassing on my balcony at this obscene hour!”

“I… I thought I heard you crying,” said D. “I was worried about you. That’s all.”

Hux’s cheeks bloomed scarlet. Before the general could defend himself, Millicent sauntered out onto the balcony, opening the curtain just enough to reveal the hologram projector running inside.

“You were watching that movie with the amnesiac love triangle too?” D asked. He began to laugh but stopped when he noticed the other general’s humorless glare. “Was that what you were crying about?”

“Shut up,” Hux sniffed, wiping another tear away. “It’s a very sad film.”

“Ah, I see.”

D lowered the hatch of the cockpit and was about to step out when Hux stopped him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the general said with a scowl.

“Getting down so we can talk… if that’s okay?”

“Give me one reason I’d allow you to climb onto my balcony uninvited in the middle of the night.”

“Um… give me one second.”

D swung back into the cockpit and dug out a golden-wrapped box from under the seat.

“For you,” he said, handing it to the general. “Premium tarine tea, straight from the Lothal System. 50 credits per tea bag.”

Hux accepted the gift with a disinterested sigh, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his eagerness.

“Thank you,” he said. Before D could set foot on the balcony, however, Hux held up a hand to stop him. “But this still isn’t expensive… I mean, extensive enough of a reason for me to allow you to stay here after you trespassed, is it?”

“Just a minute.”

Hux hid his smirk as D went back to rummaging in the cockpit.

“This is also for you.” The suitor handed Hux another box. “A crystalline carbonite necklace with green kyber lining and a microfoldable monomolecular blade inside. It’s worth at least 5,000 credits.”

Before Hux could protest, D pulled out a slip of paper.

“And what might that be?” Hux asked.

“This is a very flat, very symmetrical check for 10,000 credits,” D said. “Made payable to Armitage Hux.”

The suitor stepped out onto the balcony unhindered.

“Why you are very generous indeed,” Hux said. “I didn’t take you for the generous sort, Dameron.”

“Say, what did you just call me?” D asked a little too casually.

Hux glanced behind him to make certain they were alone before stepping out onto the balcony. After dealing with Ren for a solid year, he had had enough shenanigans for a lifetime.

“You know exactly what I called you, Dameron,” Hux said.

“Didn’t you hear the whole song about how I’m not Poe Dameron?” the imposter tried to defend himself.

“Oh, enough with the kriffing song already!” Hux snarled. He took a moment to regain his composure before asking, “How long did you think you could fool me?”

“Easy, Hugs,” Poe conceded with a nervous laugh, backing up with every stride Hux took forward until he was pressed against the railing of the balcony. “I know this must look really bad, but I honestly thought you’d like the parade and the gifts, and that you’d…”

“That I’d what?” Hux snapped. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No!”

At first, Hux was taken aback by the earnestness in Poe’s answer. Then, he thought back to the prank call at D’Qar and all the other times the scum had made a fool of him, and his glower hardened.

“Well, congratulations,” he scoffed. “You must be the only one here who doesn’t take me for an idiot. Fortunately for you, however, it seems that there is no shortage of idiots here for you to dupe with your ‘General D’ act. My troops were so well trained under my command. Now with Ren in charge of everything, everyone’s IQ has dropped by several points, I swear.”

“What are you going to do then?” Poe said. Hux caught the pilot’s eye drift to his TIE Fighter, probably plotting an escape. “Send me back to the interrogation chambers while you cozy up to General Pryde for the rest of your life?”

“Oh, stars, no!” Hux exclaimed, a little louder than intended. He cleared his throat, calming himself once more. “No. That wouldn’t suit either of us very well at all, now would it. It would be a waste… a waste of your beautiful, expensive fleet and our… however you’d describe the kind of attraction we’ve developed from sparse phone calls and cases in which one of us was imprisoned. I wouldn’t know. I’m not used to being anything but repulsed by people…”

The general hesitated. He had hoped to have more time to prepare a speech to convince Dameron of his plan, but the pilot’s unexpected visit to his balcony had changed the timeline. He hadn’t been aware that his sobs could carry so far throughout the base. Even if he’d known, he wouldn’t have thought anyone would bother to investigate.

“I don’t know where you got that fleet, Dameron,” he went on. “But there’s more firepower there than anywhere else in the galaxy. Think of the potential it could have with your skill for explosions and my impeccable tactics. The entire First Order buys that you’re this General D… whatever that last part stood for. All we need is a quick wedding ceremony. Then, you’ll have a solid place within our ranks and we can start planning grander things. Just think of it! Between the two of us, we could overcome the biggest problem in the galaxy.”

“You mean planetary warming due to too many suns?” Poe looked confused. “You really think we could solve that together as husbands?”

“That’s not the biggest problem in the galaxy,” Hux said. “I was referring to Kylo Ren! Though, for your information, the problem of planetary warming due to multiple suns would have been perfectly solvable if you hadn’t blown up Starkiller Base, you Rebel…”

The general was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at his door.

“General?” a woman’s voice called from the corridor. “What’s going on in there?”

“I was just practicing things to say to the Rebel Scum during interrogations with Millicent, Phasma!” Hux yelled back.

“Well, finish it up,” the captain said. “We need you well-rested and refreshed so that if another suitor comes, you don’t look like the nightgown-clad slop you did today!”

The general waited for the sound of Phasma’s departing footsteps before turning back to Poe.

“I’m not supposed to have men in this room past midnight,” Hux explained.

“Huh.” Poe seemed surprised by this information. “Well… would you rather take this conversation elsewhere then?”

“The hallways aren’t exactly the place I’d like to discuss a potential coup,” Hux deadpanned.

“I didn’t mean the hallways.”

Poe gestured at his TIE Silencer, set on hover-mode beside the balcony. Though Hux had never cared much for small starfighters, he would certainly have something to brag about to the other officers if they saw him in a shining new TIE Silencer. Even Ren would be jealous, especially in light of the damage to his own ship. (Hux had warned the Supreme Leader against flying the Silencer at too low of an altitude over a desert, but of course, Ren hadn’t listened. He’d returned with the engines clogged by sand.)

“Is it safe for both of us to ride it at once?” Hux asked, trying to estimate the size of the cockpit from where he was standing.

“Of course,” Poe replied. He stepped over the railing into the ship and held out his hand. “Do you trust me?”

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Poe leaned forward with a charming grin. “Do you trust me?”

Hux eyed the pilot’s hand suspiciously. Well, according to the manuals he’d read, hand-touching was still safe so long as he had gloves.

“We’ll see,” he said.

And so, he grabbed Poe’s hand and allowed the latter to pull him into the cockpit.


	9. A Whole New Morally Ambiguous Hope

“Remind me never to trust you again.”

Hux was squished on top of Poe’s lap, his head inches away from the top of the ship. Unfortunately, they were far enough away from the balcony now that it would have been a waste to turn back.

“Come on, Hugs,” Poe said. “This isn’t that bad. So, let me get this straight. Your plan is for us to get married. Then, you become Grand Marshal, we consolidate our forces and, together, we overthrow Ren. Is that about it?”

“In a simplistic sense, yes,” Hux grunted, accidentally poking Poe in the face with his elbow as he attempted to adjust himself. “Now, don’t get under the wrong impression that this means I’m fond of you. This is a primarily strategic marriage.”

“ _Primarily_ strategic,” Poe sniggered. “You’re so cute when you act all disinterested. It’s just like all those times in the interrogation chambers.”

“We touched hands once, Dameron,” Hux muttered. “That didn’t mean anything. Besides, isn’t that all you’re after to?”

“Hmm, what was that, love?”

The general was grateful that the awkward seating arrangement prevented Poe from seeing him blush.

“You know what I mean,” said Hux. “A strategic marriage. Isn’t that also what you’re after with the whole ‘General D’ suitor persona? I think it’s all obvious enough. You finally came to your senses about the hopelessness of your pathetic Resistance, so you decided to take your talents to a more worthy cause and court the winning side.”

For once in his life, the pilot said nothing. Hux gazed irritably out the canopy of the TIE. They were quite far away from the base now, flying low over the rolling dunes. He might have enjoyed the view if his legs hadn’t been cramping from being bent too long.

“There’s more to it than that, Hugs,” Poe said.

“If you go on again about how ‘skinny and pasty’ I am, I’ll strangle you,” Hux growled, though he wasn’t sure whether he could fulfill the threat at this awkward angle.

“It’s not just that either,” Poe said. “I… okay, just hear me out. Remember when you asked me back on the balcony if I thought you were stupid, and I said ‘no’? Well, I really meant it. You’re a lot of things, Hugs. You’re high-strung and screechy and kind of an evil scientist…”

“You really know how to charm a man,” Hux replied dryly.

“But you’re not stupid,” Poe went on. “You’re probably one of the best engineers out there. Even I’ve got to appreciate that, and I’m the guy whose job it is to blow up all your crazy inventions. And what’s more, you know how to use them in battle. You’ve got this dedication to the war and even though it makes you a real pain in the ass, I’ve got to respect that when everyone else seems to be just flat out giving up, and if Ren and Pryde and the rest of the First Order can’t appreciate that, then you’re just wasted here.”

“Are you suggesting I join the Resistance then?” Hux scoffed.

He waited for the punchline, but it didn’t come. The pilot truly was insane.

“Take me back to the base,” Hux ordered.

“Really, Hugs?” Poe whined. “I thought we were having one of those tender emotional moments with character development and relationship development and it was going to lead into the next song!”

“Take me back to the base,” Hux repeated, louder this time.

Instead, Poe accelerated forward.

“Dameron!” Hux screamed. “You take me back to the base right this instant!”

“Yeah, sure,” Poe said. “Like I’m going back there just so you can call the guards on me and steal my fleet.”

“I never said anything about doing that, you sneaky…” Hux squealed in alarm as the ship pitched upward, hurtling out into the stratosphere. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?!”

“I don’t know,” Poe confessed. “Somewhere scenic for us to wait for you to cool down, I guess.”

Hux craned his neck to see the back viewport, alarmed to see his base shrinking out of reach.

“Alright, Dameron,” he said. “I’ll make you a promise, a compromise. We’ll go ahead with the strategic marriage we discussed earlier, but I’ll need some reassurance on your part. So, you’re going to take me back. I promise not to blow your cover, and in exchange, you’ll give me the coordinates of the Rebel Base. Deal?”

“No deal.”

Before Hux could persuade the pilot otherwise, the ship pulled out of Tatooine’s atmosphere into a field of stars. Then, the background music began, slow and serene. It couldn’t have clashed more with the mood.

“Where’s that coming from?” Hux snapped.

“Shh,” Poe hushed him. “Just calm down and enjoy the ride until it’s your verse. We’ll figure out how to work this out in a way that doesn’t involve either of us killing all of our friends. We’ll call it the ‘Nobody Dies Compromise While Looking at Scenic Points in the Galaxy’ song.”

“Why is everything a song with the Resistance? Ever since Crait, you guys are always…”

“Shh! My verse now…”

_“I can’t show you my base._

_I’m just trying to be candid._

_Tell me, Armie, since when did_

_You last rethink your allies?”_

The ship dove into the airspace of another planet, passing through the clouds into a meadow of flowers. Hux didn’t know how they’d gotten from Tatooine to what appeared to be Naboo in a matter of seconds, but he was sure they’d broken every galactic speed limit out there in the process. Poe let down the canopy of the cockpit just long enough to snatch a white blossom for the general. Unfortunately, the acceleration of the ship had blown off all the petals by the time Poe handed over the stem. As far as Hux was concerned, it certainly wasn’t worth getting his hair wind-blown and untidy.

_“I can open your eyes_

_To this arc of redemption._

_Forget our past dissension_

_In this new plan we devise._

_A whole new side!_

_Not evil, from my point of view._

_Morality is grey,_

_And that’s okay._

_It gives our ship potential.”_

As the ship began to ascend again, Hux mused aloud:

_“A Ren-free side,_

_A much less painful point of view,_

_No one to Force-choke me,_

_Or disagree_

_With all my perfectly reasonable and strategic orders.”_

“Hugs,” Poe sighed. “Did you just purposely mess up the syllable count and rhyme scheme in the last line to sabotage this song?”

“Okay, I never agreed to have everything I say be part of this song,” Hux protested. “And I still don’t see why I can’t just discuss this subject with you normally.”

“Is it because the First Order can’t sing?” Poe asked.

“How dare you!” Hux was aghast. “I would have you know that the Imperial Academy had three show choirs, and I was in every one of them! We put on an entire musical based on the Battle of Hoth! We simply know when to contain our musical prowess.”

“I don’t believe you unless you prove it,” Poe said with a smirk. “I’ll segue into the next verse and you follow up…

_“Now, I’ve joined a whole new side with you…”_

_“Bloody conflicts and fights,_

_Plain incompetent bosses_

_Who just increase our losses,_

_Dismissing my expertise!”_

In another impossible timeframe, the ship seemed to have ended up on Yavin 4, flying past the towering Massassi outpost.

_“A whole new side!”_

_(“Don’t you dare turn then die,” Poe said, in an oddly cheerful way for a morbid statement.)_

_“A thousand more troops under me.”_

_(“Been there done that with Vader.”)_

_“With them we clearly can_

_Overthrow Ren_

_And maybe then we’ll rule the galaxy.”_

_“A whole new side!”_

_(“Just a matter of time,” Hux said.)_

_“We’ll prove that you’re not just depraved.”_

_(“You’ll give up on the Rebels”)_

_“I can fly anything,_

_So, I’m thinking,_

_We’d be great partners to end this whole war…”_

The music died down as the ship descended over the city lights of Coruscant.

_“A whole new side” (“A whole new side”)_

_“New strategy” (“New strategy”)_

_“Wrongs to avenge.”_

_“And sweet revenge.”_

_“For you and me.”_

Poe settled the ship on one of the skyscrapers, where he wrapped an arm around Hux’s waist. The general had been trying for the entire song to find a comfortable spot on Poe’s lap, but there didn’t seem to be one.

“You know, I think we can make this work,” Poe said.

“I’m still not siding with the Resistance.” Hux had a habit for shooting down people’s hopes before they could go too far. He viewed it as mercy killing.

“But we sang a whole song about how it would be better that way!” Poe cried, seemingly appalled that this reason was insufficient.

“Be grateful that I’ve agreed to a compromise that doesn’t involve the immediate execution of your war criminal friends.”

The look on Hux’s face was enough to make even the Resistance’s most stubborn captain put the argument to rest, at least for the time being.

“Fine,” Poe said. “We’ll settle for a stalemate and work the rest out after the wedding.” He fired up the engine of the ship and pulled the ship out over the chaotic city streets. “I guess we’d better get back before it’s too late.”

“Judging by how many planets we’ve visited, I think that’s a lost cause already,” Hux said. “But yes, we should go back before Ren gets too suspicious of my absence.”

The general was shocked to find that the sun had not yet risen when they reached his balcony. Millicent had fallen asleep in the exact same spot he’d left her and was too drowsy to complain as the TIE hovered low beside her. (He would later discover that the sun had not risen because he had arrived exactly two full rotation periods after leaving the base and that Millicent hadn’t moved simply because she was lazy. This realization explained his intense feelings of hunger, dehydration and serious need to urinate, which he had mostly ignored throughout the song.)

“Good night, General D.”

Hux bid his farewell as he clambered out of the cockpit, grateful to be able to stretch his legs their full-length again. Before he could return to his bedchamber, Poe caught him by the hand. The general froze, staring up at the pilot like a taun taun caught in headlights.

“Good night, General Hugs,” Poe said. He leaned forward and, before Hux could process what was happening, planted a kiss on the general’s hand.

The last thing Hux remembered before he fainted was the feeling of his cheeks burning and blood rushing to places he wasn’t used to it going. He came to long past midnight, tucked into bed with a cup of tarine tea beside him.

 

Outside the balcony, Poe leaned back in his TIE Fighter with a victorious, “Yes!”


	10. They're Finally Getting Married! (Look at all these AT-ATs...)

Phasma stormed into the command bridge, blaster in hand, looking fully prepared to murder any who incurred her wrath. This wasn’t an unusual look for her, but today, the captain was especially irate. The entire crew stiffened as she marched down the catwalk to where the rest of the commanding officers, save a certain general, were engaged in a heated discussion.

“Any news on Hux?” Phasma snapped, joining the group.

“No, Captain,” Mitaka replied sadly. “No one has seen any sign of General Hux or General D anywhere in the base. We put up ‘Lost General’ posters for Hux two days ago, but we haven’t received any information as to his whereabouts.”

“Good riddance,” Peavey scoffed.

The doors of the bridge slid open and Thanisson ran in, holding a small envelope.

“Sirs and madam,” he said breathlessly, giving a sloppy salute. “I just received word that the Stormtroopers posted all the posters you requested backwards with the blank side facing out.”

“No wonder no one can read them,” Phasma muttered, making a mental note to assign the Stormtroopers extra homework that night on how to post a poster.

“And I have other news too,” Thanisson said. “It’s here. It’s a rather urgent message.”

He held out the letter. The format of the ‘urgent message’ was enough to raise a few eyebrows. Colonel Kaplan opened the envelope and read it aloud:

“At approximately 2:10 AM Tatooine Standard Time, an unidentified figure and starship were spotted on the balcony of General Armitage Hux’s private quarters.” He put down the letter and shouted at the younger officer, “Why didn’t you tell us this two days ago?!”

“I would have gotten it to you faster,” Thanisson said defensively, “But it took me a very long time to make it here from my post on the other side of the planet.”

“You should have sent a digital transmission as soon as you received this!” Kaplan rebuked him. “This is even worse than the time the Rebel Scum were escaping, and you sent me a casual email about an ‘unsanctioned departure’.”

“I would have, but I got this letter from Supreme Leader Ren saying otherwise.”

Thanisson produced yet another envelope from his pocket bearing the seal of the Supreme Leader. Inside was a message written in beautiful calligraphy:

_The Supreme Leader officially decrees that all emergency updates related to the wellbeing of General Armitage Hux during his stay on Tatooine are to be delivered via handwritten letter sent by bantha mail. This is simply to leave no doubt that the wellbeing of Armitage Hux is not a priority to the Supreme Leader._

“Well,” Peavey chuckled. “That’s one way to get rid of him.”

“What are we going to do?” Mitaka wailed. “He could be anywhere out in the desert right now, starving, dehydrated… kidnapped by sand people while searching for mushrooms…”

General Pryde, who had been silent for most of the conversation, cleared his throat.

“At any rate,” he said. “Saying that Armitage is currently missing, I think I will show myself out. I imagine my sector of the fleet is taking up quite a bit of space, and we wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome. Very sorry indeed that the marital plans fell through…”

He made it no more than a single stride towards the bridge before being blocked by Phasma.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she barked. “Not until we’re sure that General Hux is dead for good and therefore no longer a potential husband, or that General D is dead and has rewarded us the ships and money he left here in his will.”

As if on cue, the doors to the bridge opened once more, revealing a particularly exhausted General Hux.

“Is this an officer’s meeting?” Hux slurred. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a meeting?”

Peavey and Pryde held back curses as the young general trudged across the catwalk. Meanwhile, Kaplan and Thanisson were still arguing over the pros and cons of bantha mail.

“Where’s the caf machine?” Hux yawned. “Don’t tell me Ren broke it again. I need it. I’m so bloody tired… feel like I just travelled the whole galaxy in one night… which sounds absolutely insane, I…”

“Where have you been?” Phasma cut him off. “You’ve been gone for two days!”

Hux froze in the middle of stirring creamer into his caf, a look of horrified realization spreading across his gaunt face.

“Were we really gone that long?” he asked, more to himself than anyone else. “I suppose that would explain the hunger and dehydration.”

“What do you mean ‘ _we’_?” Phasma interrogated him. “Who did you sneak out with?”

“General D,” Hux replied, taking a sip of his caf.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you killed him already,” Phasma groaned.

“Nonsense, Phasma,” Hux said. “You know I would never kill a man that rich unless I was certain I was included in his will. Besides, General D is much more useful to us alive, don’t you think so.”

Phasma stared at him incredulously.

“I’ve never heard you speak so fondly of another officer before, General,” she said. “Does this mean you’ve…”

Hux’s answer was preempted by the sound of Mitaka blowing his nose into a tearstained handkerchief. Even a few of the technicians were getting choked up with pride.

“I never thought this day would come!” the lieutenant sobbed, unaware that he was crying on Peavey’s shoulder. The captain was apparently too disgusted by the display to push him away. “Our baby’s all grown up and marrying rich!”

* * *

 

Poe was awoken by a loud thump accompanied by an unpleasant jolt. He opened his eyes and found himself face-to-face with the orange head of his droid-turned-AT-AT.

“Just a few more minutes, Buddy,” he mumbled, rolling over onto his side.

BB-8, it seemed, had other ideas. No sooner had Poe closed his eyes did the AT-AT begin to stomp its feet once more, making the entire bed quake.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!”

The AT-AT let out a very low strain of binary.

“Yeah, I know.” Poe sat up, rubbing his drowsy eyes. “I didn’t plan to be gone for two days, okay? We just got a little carried away, but it was worth it.”

He slid out of bed and began to put on his uniform. It took much longer to get dressed than was used to. The First Order uniform had three more accessory layers than the typical Resistance garb, including shoulder pads beneath the greatcoat which were difficult to adjust and seemed rather pointless.

“I still don’t know what you see in that shrill and sour general of yours,” Obi-Wan said, rising up beside the bed.

“Oh, come on.” Poe gave a blissful sigh at the thought of his bitter sweetheart. “I know you’re suspicious of how this could work… a First Order general like him and a dashing X-Wing pilot like me… but after the last two nights, I can feel him coming over to our side. Just think of what a man with his tech skills and strategy could do for the Resistance in the war! And how drop-dead gorgeous he’ll look doing it!”

As if on cue, Poe’s hologram monitor began to buzz, the caller ID flashing Hux’s name. The pilot answered the call eagerly. The projector shot out a blue image of the general, caf mug in hand with heavy bags beneath his verdant eyes, his mouth curled into a smile that looked pained no matter how he twisted it.

_See,_ Poe thought, grinning at the hologram. _Drop-dead gorgeous._

“Morning, General Hugs,” he said.

“General D.” To Poe’s disappointment, Hux did not even flinch at the nickname. “I am calling to formally report to you my acceptance of your marriage proposal. If you still desire to take me as your husband, please come down to the command bridge so that we may commence the appropriate marital procedures.”

“You… want to have the wedding today?” Though Poe was eager to finalize this first step, he couldn’t help but be a little surprised by the timing. It felt as if they ought to wait longer, about 2.5 movies longer, to be precise.

“Yes.” Hux looked perplexed. “Unless… you’re retracting your proposal.”

“No, no! Of course, I want to get married!” Poe said. “I’ll be right down, darling!”

“I will have the announcement released galaxy-wide within the next two hours,” Hux replied. “Please hurry. Mitaka already got the engagement rings for us to pose with and the Coruscant News Network will be here at any moment.”

The general’s hologram faded away as the call came to an end, leaving Poe with a very irritated Obi-Wan breathing down his neck (or rather, the Jedi would have been breathing down his neck is he were still alive).

“I suppose this is all part of your plan,” said Obi-Wan.

“Of course, it is,” Poe said. “This is just the start of the mutiny. Just, leave me some time alone to work it out during the honeymoon, and I’ll have a strategy for overthrowing Ren and bringing in the rest of the Resistance figured out by the time Hugs and I get back from Scarif or Yavin 4 or wherever we decide to go.”

He headed over to the mirror to freshen up. Knowing Hux, the wedding would be highly publicized, with plenty of photos and speeches along the way. It wouldn’t do to have one of the grooms looking disheveled for the media.

“And, have you spoken with your friends in the Resistance about this ingenious scheme?” Obi-Wan asked.

Poe paused, comb in hand. He was in the middle of untangling an unsightly knot in his curls. The previous nights’ tour of the galaxy had not made for a good hair day.

“I’ll let them know after I meet with Hugs,” Poe said.

“ _Of course_ , you will,” Obi-Wan said. “Well, I can tell you a few things about turning to the dark side in hopes of bringing peace and stability to this galaxy. From my experience, it ends in lava and singed limbs, but if that’s the route you want to go, don’t say I didn’t warn you. That’s just my luck, I suppose. Everyone I try to help ends up turning to the dark side for peace and falling into lava…”

“It’s not a trend if it’s only happened one time,” Poe pointed out. “And I’m not turning to the dark side. I’m marrying into the dark side for light side purposes. It’s a worthy sacrifice for the Resistance.”

“A luxurious wedding is hardly a sacrifice, especially…” Obi-Wan paused to reconsider. “Actually, considering who your groom is, I think you’ll end up suffering enough to call it a worthy sacrifice.”

Before Poe could offer a rebuttal, another voice arose in the room. The voice was distant, as if it had only been imagined, though the jaded whine about it seemed quite authentic:

“This is why I didn’t invite him to my wedding with Padmé...”

“Quiet, Anakin!” Obi-Wan spun around, presumably to face the unseen speaker. “You didn’t even finish reading the Jedi Texts! You have no say in this matter!”

Poe had heard horror stories of disputes between Force sensitives. It seemed that an elevated midichlorian count tended to increase one’s tendency for melodrama.

“I’ll show myself out,” he said hurriedly, unwilling to get entangled in the brewing fight. There were certainly some downsides to having the Force ghosts around, particularly Obi-Wan’s late night fights with Anakin’s disembodied voice over who was evil according to different viewpoints. In theory, it was a small price to pay for access to infinite cosmic power, but sometimes, Poe had his doubts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos if you liked this are appreciated.


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